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When Blood Told
Tarzan of the Apes was disgusted. He had had the Ger-
man spy, Bertha Kircher, in his power and had left her
unscathed. It is true that he had slain Hauptmann Fritz
Schneider, that Underlieutenant von Goss had died at his
hands, and that he had otherwise wreaked vengeance upon the
men of the German company who had murdered, pillaged, and
raped at Tarzan's bungalow in the Waziri country. There was
still another officer to be accounted for, but him he could
not find. It was Lieutenant Obergatz he still sought, though
vainly, for at last he learned that the man had been sent upon
some special mission, whether in Africa or back to Europe
Tarzan's informant either did not know or would not divulge.
But the fact that he had permitted sentiment to stay his
hand when he might so easily have put Bertha Kircher out of
the way in the hotel at Wilhelmstal that night rankled in the
ape-man's bosom. He was shamed by his weakness, and when
he had handed the paper she had given him to the British chief
of staff, even though the information it contained permitted
the British to frustrate a German flank attack, he was still much
dissatisfied with himself. And possibly the root of this
dissatis-
faction lay in the fact that he realized that were he again to
have the same opportunity he would still find it as impossible
to slay a woman as it had been in Wilhelmstal that night.
Tarzan blamed this weakness, as he considered it, upon his
association with the effeminating influences of civilization, for
in the bottom of his savage heart he held in contempt both
civilization and its representatives -- the men and women of the
civilized countries of the world. Always was he comparing
their weaknesses, their vices, their hypocrisies, and their
little
vanities with the open, primitive ways of his ferocious jungle
mates, and all the while there battled in that same big heart
with these forces another mighty force -- Tarzan's love and
loyalty for his friends of the civilized world.
The ape-man, reared as he had been by savage beasts amid
savage beasts, was slow to make friends. Acquaintances he
numbered by the hundreds; but of friends he had few. These
few he would have died for as, doubtless, they would have
died for him; but there were none of these fighting with the
British forces in East Africa, and so, sickened and disgusted
by the sight of man waging his cruel and inhuman warfare,
Tarzan determined to heed the insistent call of the remote
jungle of his youth, for the Germans were now on the run and
the war in East Africa was so nearly over that he realized that
his further services would be of negligible value.
Never regularly sworn into the service of the King, he was
under no obligation to remain now that the moral obligation
had been removed, and so it was that he disappeared from
the British camp as mysteriously as he had appeared a few
months before.
More than once had Tarzan reverted to the primitive only to
return again to civilization through love for his mate; but now
that she was gone he felt that this time he had definitely de-
parted forever from the haunts of man, and that he should live
and die a beast among beasts even as he had been from infancy
to maturity.
Between him and destination lay a trackless wilderness
of untouched primeval savagery where, doubtless in many
spots, his would be the first human foot to touch the virgin
turf. Nor did this prospect dismay the Tarmangani -- rather
was it an urge and an inducement, for rich in his veins flowed
that noble strain of blood that has made most of the earth's
surface habitable for man.
The question of food and water that would have risen
paramount in the mind of an ordinary man contemplating such
an excursion gave Tarzan little concern. The wilderness was
his natural habitat and woodcraft as inherent to him as breath-
ing. Like other jungle animals he could scent water from a
great distance and, where you or I might die of thirst, the ape-
man would unerringly select the exact spot at which to dig and
find water.
For several days Tarzan traversed a country rich in game
and watercourses. He moved slowly, hunting and fishing, or
again fraternizing or quarreling with the other savage denizens
of the jungle. Now it was little Manu, the monkey, who
chattered and scolded at the mighty Tarmangani and in the
next breath warned him that Histah, the snake, lay coiled in
the long grass just ahead. Of Manu Tarzan inquired concern-
ing the great apes -- the Mangani -- and was told that few
inhabited this part of the jungle, and that even these were
hunting farther to the north this season of the year.
"But there is Bolgani," said Manu. "Would you like to see
Bolgani?"
Manu's tone was sneering, and Tarzan knew that it was be-
cause little Manu thought all creatures feared mighty Bolgani,
the gorilla. Tarzan arched his great chest and struck it with a
clinched fist. "I am Tarzan," he cried. "While Tarzan was
yet a balu he slew a Bolgani. Tarzan seeks the Mangani, who
are his brothers, but Bolgani he does not seek, so let Bolgani
keep from the path of Tarzan."
Little Manu, the monkey, was much impressed, for the way
of the jungle is to boast and to believe. It was then that he
condescended to tell Tarzan more of the Mangani.
"They go there and there and there," he said, making a wide
sweep with a brown hand first toward the north, then west, and
then south again. "For there," and he pointed due west, "is
much hunting; but between lies a great place where there is no
food and no water, so they must go that way," and again he
swung his hand through the half-circle that explained to
Tarzan the great detour the apes made to come to their hunt-
ing ground to the west.
That was all right for the Mangani, who are lazy and do not
care to move rapidly; but for Tarzan the straight road would
be the best. He would cross the dry country and come to the
good hunting in a third of the time that it would take to go far
to the north and circle back again. And so it was that he con-
tinued on toward the west, and crossing a range of low moun-
tains came in sight of a broad plateau, rock strewn and deso-
late. Far in the distance he saw another range of mountains
beyond which he felt must lie the hunting ground of the
Mangani. There he would join them and remain for a while
before continuing on toward the coast and the little cabin
that his father had built beside the land-locked harbor at the
jungle's edge.
Tarzan was full of plans. He would rebuild and enlarge
the cabin of his birth, constructing storage houses where he
would make the apes lay away food when it was plenty against
the times that were lean -- a thing no ape ever had dreamed of
doing. And the tribe would remain always in the locality and he
would be king again as he had in the past. He would try to
teach them some of the better things that he had learned from
man, yet knowing the ape-mind as only Tarzan could, he
feared that his labors would be for naught.
The ape-man found the country he was crossing rough in
the extreme, the roughest he ever had encountered. The
plateau was cut by frequent canyons the passage of which
often entailed hours of wearing effort. The vegetation was
sparse and of a faded brown color that lent to the whole
landscape a most depressing aspect. Great rocks were strewn
in every direction as far as the eye could see, lying partially
embedded in an impalpable dust that rose in clouds about him
at every step. The sun beat down mercilessly out of a cloud-
less sky.
For a day Tarzan toiled across this now hateful land and
at the going down of the sun the distant mountains to the west
seemed no nearer than at morn. Never a sign of living thing
had the ape-man seen, other than Ska, that bird of ill omen,
that had followed him tirelessly since he had entered this
parched waste.
No littlest beetle that he might eat had given evidence that
life of any sort existed here, and it was a hungry and thirsty
Tarzan who lay down to rest in the evening. He decided now
to push on during the cool of the night, for he realized that
even mighty Tarzan had his limitations and that where there
was no food one could not eat and where there was no water
the greatest woodcraft in the world could find none. It was a
totally new experience to Tarzan to find so barren and terrible
a country in his beloved Africa. Even the Sahara had its
oases; but this frightful world gave no indication of containing
a square foot of hospitable ground.
However, he had no misgivings but that he would fare forth
into the wonder country of which little Manu had told him,
though it was certain that he would do it with a dry skin and
an empty belly. And so he fought on until daylight, when he
again felt the need of rest. He was at the edge of another of
those terrible canyons, the eighth he had crossed, whose pre-
cipitous sides would have taxed to the uttermost the strength
of an untired man well fortified by food and water, and for the
first time, as he looked down into the abyss and then at the
opposite side that he must scale, misgivings began to assail
his mind.
He did not fear death -- with the memory of his murdered
mate still fresh in his mind he almost courted it, yet strong
within him was that primal instinct of self-preservation -- the
battling force of life that would keep him an active contender
against the Great Reaper until, fighting to the very last, he
should be overcome by a superior power.
A shadow swung slowly across the ground beside him, and
looking up, the ape-man saw Ska, the vulture, wheeling a wide
circle above him. The grim and persistent harbinger of evil
aroused the man to renewed determination. He arose and
approached the edge of the canyon, and then, wheeling, with
his face turned upward toward the circling bird of prey, he
bellowed forth the challenge of the bull ape.
"I am Tarzan," he shouted, "Lord of the Jungle. Tarzan of
the Apes is not for Ska, eater of carrion. Go back to the lair
of Dango and feed off the leavings of the hyenas, for Tarzan
will leave no bones for Ska to pick in this empty wilderness of
death."
But before he reached the bottom of the canyon he again
was forced to the realization that his great strength was
waning, and when he dropped exhausted at the foot of the
cliff and saw before him the opposite wall that must be scaled,
he bared his fighting fangs and growled. For an hour he lay
resting in the cool shade at the foot of the cliff. All about
him reigned utter silence -- the silence of the tomb. No flutter-
ing birds, no humming insects, no scurrying reptiles relieved
the deathlike stillness. This indeed was the valley of death.
He felt the depressing influence of the horrible place setting
down upon him; but he staggered to his feet, shaking himself
like a great lion, for was he not still Tarzan, mighty Tarzan
of the Apes? Yes, and Tarzan the mighty he would be until
the last throb of that savage heart!
As he crossed the floor of the canyon he saw something
lying close to the base of the side wall he was approaching --
something that stood out in startling contrast to all the sur-
roundings and yet seemed so much a part and parcel of the
somber scene as to suggest an actor amid the settings of a
well-appointed stage, and, as though to carry out the allegory,
the pitiless rays of flaming Kudu topped the eastern cliff,
picking out the thing lying at the foot of the western wall like
a giant spotlight.
And as Tarzan came nearer he saw the bleached skull and
bones of a human being about which were remnants of
clothing and articles of equipment that, as he examined them,
filled the ape-man with curiosity to such an extent that for a
time he forgot his own predicament in contemplation of the
remarkable story suggested by these mute evidences of a
tragedy of a time long past.
The bones were in a fair state of preservation and indicated
by their intactness that the flesh had probably been picked
from them by vultures as none was broken; but the pieces of
equipment bore out the suggestion of their great age. In this
protected spot where there were no frosts and evidently but
little rainfall, the bones might have lain for ages without
disintegrating, for there were here no other forces to scatter
or disturb them.
Near the skeleton lay a helmet of hammered brass and a
corroded breastplate of steel while at one side was a long,
straight sword in its scabbard and an ancient harquebus. The
bones were those of a large man -- a man of wondrous strength
and vitality Tarzan knew he must have been to have pene-
trated thus far through the dangers of Africa with such a
ponderous yet at the same time futile armament.
The ape-man felt a sense of deep admiration for this name-
less adventurer of a bygone day. What a brute of a man he
must have been and what a glorious tale of battle and kaleido-
scopic vicissitudes of fortune must once have been locked
within that whitened skull! Tarzan stooped to examine the
shreds of clothing that still lay about the bones. Every particle
of leather had disappeared, doubtless eaten by Ska. No boots
remained, if the man had worn boots, but there were several
buckles scattered about suggesting that a great part of his
trappings had been of leather, while just beneath the bones of
one hand lay a metal cylinder about eight inches long and two
inches in diameter. As Tarzan picked it up he saw that it
had been heavily lacquered and had withstood the slight
ravages of time so well as to be in as perfect a state of
perserva-
tion today as it had been when its owner dropped into his last,
long sleep perhaps centuries ago.
As he examined it he discovered that one end was closed
with a friction cover which a little twisting force soon loosened
and removed, revealing within a roll of parchment which the
ape-man removed and opened, disclosing a number of age-
yellowed sheets closely written upon in a fine hand in a lan-
guage which he guessed to be Spanish but which he could not
decipher. Upon the last sheet was a roughly drawn map with
numerous reference points marked upon it, all unintelligible to
Tarzan, who, after a brief examination of the papers, returned
them to their metal case, replaced the top and was about to
toss the little cylinder to the ground beside the mute remains
of its former possessor when some whim of curiosity unsatisfied
prompted him to slip it into the quiver with his arrows, though
as he did so it was with the grim thought that possibly cen-
turies hence it might again come to the sight of man beside
his own bleached bones.
And then, with a parting glance at the ancient skeleton, he
turned to the task of ascending the western wall of the canyon.
Slowly and with many rests he dragged his weakening body
upwards. Again and again he slipped back from sheer ex-
haustion and would have fallen to the floor of the canyon but
for merest chance. How long it took him to scale that
frightful wall he could not have told, and when at last he
dragged himself over the top it was to lie weak and gasping,
too spent to rise or even to move a few inches farther from the
perilous edge of the chasm.
At last he arose, very slowly and with evident effort gaining
his knees first and then staggering to his feet, yet his indomi-
table will was evidenced by a sudden straightening of his
shoulders and a determined shake of his head as he lurched
forward on unsteady legs to take up his valiant fight for sur-
vival. Ahead he scanned the rough landscape for sign of an-
other canyon which he knew would spell inevitable doom.
The western hills rose closer now though weirdly unreal as
they seemed to dance in the sunlight as though mocking him
with their nearness at the moment that exhaustion was about
to render them forever unattainable.
Beyond them he knew must be the fertile hunting grounds
of which Manu had told. Even if no canyon intervened, his
chances of surmounting even low hills seemed remote should
he have the fortune to reach their base; but with another
canyon hope was dead. Above them Ska still circled, and it
seemed to the ape-man that the ill-omened bird hovered ever
lower and lower as though reading in that failing gait the near-
ing of the end, and through cracked lips Tarzan growled out
his defiance.
Mile after mile Tarzan of the Apes put slowly behind him,
borne up by sheer force of will where a lesser man would have
lain down to die and rest forever tired muscles whose every
move was an agony of effort; but at last his progress became
practically mechanical -- he staggered on with a dazed mind
that reacted numbly to a single urge -- on, on, on! The hills
were now but a dim, ill-defined blur ahead. Sometimes he
forgot that they were hills, and again he wondered vaguely
why he must go on forever through all this torture endeavoring
to overtake them -- the fleeing, elusive hills. Presently he
began to hate them and there formed within his half-delirious
brain the hallucination that the hills were German hills, that
they had slain someone dear to him, whom he could never
quite recall, and that he was pursuing to slay them.
This idea, growing, appeared to give him strength -- a new
and revivifying purpose -- so that for a time he no longer
staggered; but went forward steadily with head erect. Once
he stumbled and fell, and when he tried to rise he found that
he could not -- that his strength was so far gone that he could
only crawl forward on his hands and knees for a few yards and
then sink down again to rest.
It was during one of these frequent periods of utter exhaus-
tion that he heard the flap of dismal wings close above him.
With his remaining strength he turned himself over on his back
to see Ska wheel quickly upward. With the sight Tarzan's
mind cleared for a while.
"Is the end so near as that?" he thought. "Does Ska know
that I am so near gone that he dares come down and perch
upon my carcass?" And even then a grim smile touched those
swollen lips as into the savage mind came a sudden thought --
the cunning of the wild beast at bay. Closing his eyes he
threw a forearm across them to protect them from Ska's
powerful beak and then he lay very still and waited.
It was restful lying there, for the sun was now obscured by
clouds and Tarzan was very tired. He feared that he might
sleep and something told him that if he did he would never
awaken, and so he concentrated all his remaining powers upon
the one thought of remaining awake. Not a muscle moved --
to Ska, circling above, it became evident that the end had
come -- that at last he should be rewarded for his long vigil
Circling slowly he dropped closer and closer to the dying
man. Why did not Tarzan move? Had he indeed been over-
come by the sleep of exhaustion, or was Ska right -- had death
at last claimed that mighty body? Was that great, savage
heart stilled forever? It is unthinkable.
Ska, filled with suspicions, circled warily. Twice he almost
alighted upon the great, naked breast only to wheel suddenly
away; but the third time his talons touched the brown skin.
It was as though the contact closed an electric circuit that
instantaneously vitalized the quiet clod that had lain motion-
less so long. A brown hand swept downward from the brown
forehead and before Ska could raise a wing in flight he was in
the clutches of his intended victim.
Ska fought, but he was no match for even a dying Tarzan,
and a moment later the ape-man's teeth closed upon the
carrion-eater. The flesh was coarse and tough and gave off
an unpleasant odor and a worse taste; but it was food and the
blood was drink and Tarzan only an ape at heart and a dying
ape into the bargain -- dying of starvation and thirst.
Even mentally weakened as he was the ape-man was still
master of his appetite and so he ate but sparingly, saving the
rest, and then, feeling that he now could do so safely, he turned
upon his side and slept.
Rain, beating heavily upon his body, awakened him and
sitting up he cupped his hands and caught the precious drops
which he transferred to his parched throat. Only a little he
got at a time; but that was best. The few mouthfuls of Ska
that he had eaten, together with the blood and rain water and
the sleep had refreshed him greatly and put new strength into
his tired muscles.
Now he could see the hills again and they were close and,
though there was no sun, the world looked bright and cheerful,
for Tarzan knew that he was saved. The bird that would have
devoured him, and the providential rain, had saved him at the
very moment that death seemed inevitable.
Again partaking of a few mouthfuls of the unsavory flesh of
Ska, the vulture, the ape-man arose with something of his old
force and set out with steady gait toward the hills of promise
rising alluringly ahead. Darkness fell before he reached them;
but he kept on until he felt the steeply rising ground that
proclaimed his arrival at the base of the hills proper, and then
he lay down and waited until morning should reveal the easiest
passage to the land beyond. The rain had ceased, but the sky
still was overcast so that even his keen eyes could not pene-
trate the darkness farther than a few feet. And there he slept,
after eating again of what remained of Ska, until the morning
sun awakened him with a new sense of strength and well-
being.
And so at last he came through the hills out of the valley of
death into a land of parklike beauty, rich in game. Below him
lay a deep valley through the center of which dense jungle
vegetation marked the course of a river beyond which a
primeval forest extended for miles to terminate at last at the
foot of lofty, snow-capped mountains. It was a land that
Tarzan never had looked upon before, nor was it likely that
the foot of another white man ever had touched it unless,
possibly, in some long-gone day the adventurer whose skeleton
he had found bleaching in the canyon had traversed it.

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