THAT night Esteban made his lonely camp beside a jungle trail that wound through the dry wash of an old river bed, along which a tiny still , affording the Spaniard the water which he .
The which him that he was in truth Tarzan of the Apes, imparted to him a false courage, so that he could camp alone upon the ground without recourse to artificial protection of any kind, and fortune had favored him in this respect in that it had sent no prowling beasts of to find him upon those occasions that he had dared too much. During the period that Hawkes had been with him he had built shelters for her, but now that he had her and was again alone, he could not, in the rôle that he had assumed, consider so effeminate an act as the building of even a thorn boma for protection during the darkness of the night.
He did, however, build a fire, for he had made a kill and had not yet reached a point of which permitted him even to imagine that he enjoyed raw meat.
Having what meat he wanted and filled himself at the little rivulet, Esteban came back and before his fire, where he drew the of diamonds from his loin cloth and, opening it, spilled a handful of the precious into his palm. The firelight playing upon them sent gleams shooting into the dark of the surrounding jungle night as the Spaniard let a tiny stream of the sparkling stones from one hand to the other, and in the pretty play of light the Spaniard saw visions of the future—power, luxury, beautiful women—all that great wealth might purchase for a man. With half closed eyes he dreamed of the ideal that he should search the world over to obtain—the dream-woman for whom he had always searched—the dream-woman he had never found, the fit companion for such as Esteban Miranda imagined himself to be. Presently through the dark that veiled his narrowed lids the Spaniard seemed to see before him in the flickering light of his campfire a vague materialization of the figure of his dream—a woman’s figure, clothed in flowing white which appeared to just above him at the outer of his firelight at the summit of the ancient river bank.
It was strange how the vision persisted. Esteban closed his eyes tightly, and then opened them ever so little, and there, as it had been before he closed them, the vision remained. And then he opened his eyes wide, and still the figure of the woman in white floated above him.
Esteban Miranda went suddenly pale. “Mother of God!” he cried. “It is Flora. She is dead and has come back to haunt me.”
With staring eyes he slowly rose to his feet to confront the , when in soft and gentle tones it .
“Heart of my heart,” it cried, “it is really you!”
Instantly Esteban realized that this was no disembodied spirit, nor was it Flora—but who was it? Who was this vision of beauty, alone in the African ?
Very slowly now it was the embankment and coming toward him. Esteban returned the diamonds to the pouch and replaced it inside his loin cloth.
With outstretched arms the girl came toward him. “My love, my love,” she cried, “do not tell me that you do not know me.” She was close enough now for the Spaniard to see her rapidly rising and falling breasts and her lips trembling with love and passion. A sudden wave of hot desire swept over him, so with outstretched arms he sprang forward to meet her and crush her to his breast.
Tarzan, following the spoor of the man and the woman, moved in a manner along the jungle trail, for he realized that no haste was essential to overtake these two. Nor was he at all surprised when he came suddenly upon the figure of a woman, lying in the center of the pathway. He knelt beside her and laid a hand upon her shoulder, a startled scream.
“God!” she cried, “this is the end!”
“You are in no danger,” said the ape-man. “I will not harm you.”
She turned her eyes and looked up at him. At first she thought he was Esteban. “You have come back to save me, Esteban?” she asked.
“Esteban!” he exclaimed. “I am not Esteban. That is not my name.” And then she recognized him.
“Lord Greystoke!” she cried. “It is really you?”
“Yes,” he said, “and who are you?”
“I am Flora Hawkes. I was Lady Greystoke’s maid.”
“I remember you,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I am afraid to tell you,” she said. “I am afraid of your anger.”
“Tell me,” he commanded. “You should know, Flora, that I do not harm women.”
“We came to get gold from the of Opar,” she said. “But that you know.”
“I know nothing of it,” he replied. “Do you mean that you were with those Europeans who drugged me and left me in their camp?”
“Yes,” she said, “we got the gold, but you came with your Waziri and took it from us.”
“I came with no Waziri and took nothing from you,” said Tarzan. “I do not understand you.”
She raised her in surprise, for she knew that Tarzan of the Apes did not lie.
“We became separated,” she said, “after our men turned against us. Esteban stole me from the others, and then, after a while Kraski found us. He was the Russian. He came with a bagful of diamonds and then Esteban killed him and took the diamonds.”
It was now Tarzan’s turn to experience surprise.
“And Esteban is the man who is with you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, “but he has deserted me. I could not walk farther on my sore feet. He has gone and left me here to die and he has taken the diamonds with him.”
“We shall find him,” said the ape-man. “Come.”
“But I cannot walk,” said the girl.
“That is a small matter,” he said, and stooping lifted her to his shoulder.
Easily the ape-man bore the girl along the trail. “It is not far to water,” he said, “and water is what you need. It will help to revive you and give you strength, and perhaps I shall be able to find food for you soon.”
“Why are you so good to me?” asked the girl.
“You are a woman. I could not leave you alone in the jungle to die, no matter what you may have done,” replied the ape-man. And Flora Hawkes could only a broken plea for forgiveness for the wrong she had done him.
It grew quite dark, but still they moved along the silent trail until presently Tarzan caught in the distance the reflection of firelight.
“I think we shall soon find your friend,” he whispered. “Make no noise.”
A moment later his keen ears caught the sound of voices. He halted and lowered the girl to her feet.
“If you cannot follow,” he said, “wait here. I do not wish him to escape. I will return for you. If you can follow on slowly, do so.” And then he left her and made his way cautiously forward toward the light and the voices. He heard Flora Hawkes moving directly behind him. It was evident that she could not bear the thought of being left alone again in the dark jungle. Almost Tarzan heard a low a few paces to his right. “Jad-bal-ja,” he whispered in a low voice, “heel,” and the great black-maned lion crept close to him, and Flora Hawkes, a scream, rushed to his side and grasped his arms.
“Silence,” he whispered; “Jad-bal-ja will not harm you.”
An instant later the three came to the edge of the ancient river bank, and through the tall grasses growing there looked down upon the little camp beneath.
Tarzan, to his , saw a counterpart of himself before a little fire, while slowly approaching the man, with outstretched arms, was a woman, draped in flowing white. He heard her words; soft words of love and , and at the sound of the voice and the spoor that a wind carried suddenly to his , a strange complex of emotion overwhelmed him—happiness, despair, rage, love, and hate.
He saw the man at the fire step forward with open arms to take the woman to his breast, and then Tarzan separated the grasses and stepped to the very edge of the embankment, his voice shattering the jungle with a single word.
“Jane!” he cried, and instantly the man and woman turned and looked up at him, where his figure was dimly revealed in the light of the campfire. At sight of him the man wheeled and raced for the jungle on the opposite side of the river, and then Tarzan leaped to the bottom of the wash below and ran toward the woman.
“Jane,” he cried, “it is you, it is you!”
The woman showed her bewilderment. She looked first at the retreating figure of the man she had been about to embrace and then turned her eyes toward Tarzan. She drew her fingers across her brow and looked back toward Esteban, but Esteban was no longer in sight. Then she took a step toward the ape-man.
“My God,” she cried, “what does it mean? Who are you, and if you are Tarzan who was he?”
“I am Tarzan, Jane,” said the ape-man.
She looked back and saw Flora Hawkes approaching. “Yes,” she said, “you are Tarzan. I saw you when you ran off into the jungle with Flora Hawkes. I cannot understand, John. I could not believe that you, even had you suffered an accident to your head, could have done such a thing.”
“I, run off into the jungle with Flora Hawkes?” he asked, in unfeigned surprise.
“I saw you,” said Jane.
The ape-man turned toward Flora. “I do not understand it,” he said.
“It was Esteban who ran off into the jungle with me, Lady Greystoke,” said the girl. “It was Esteban who was about to deceive you again. This is indeed Lord Greystoke. The other was an impostor, who only just deserted me and left me to die in the jungle. Had not Lord Greystoke come when he did I should be dead by now.”
Lady Greystoke took a faltering step toward her husband. “Ah, John,” she said, “I knew it could not have been you. My heart told me, but my eyes deceived me. Quick,” she cried, “that impostor must be captured. Hurry, John, before he escapes.”
“Let him go,” said the ape-man. “As much as I want him, as much as I want that which he has stolen from me, I will not leave you alone again in the jungle, Jane, even to catch him.”
“But Jad-bal-ja,” she cried. “What of him?”
“Ah,” cried the ape-man, “I had forgotten,” and turning to the lion he toward the direction that the Spaniard had escaped. “Fetch him, Jad-bal-ja,” he cried; and, with a bound, the beast was off upon the spoor of his .
“He will kill him?” asked Flora Hawkes, . And yet at heart she was glad of the just fate that was overtaking the Spaniard.
“No, he will not kill him,” said Tarzan of the Apes. “He may maul him a bit, but he will bring him back alive if it is possible.” And then, as though the fate of the was already forgotten, he turned toward his mate.
“Jane,” he said, “Usula told me that you were dead. He said that they found your burned body in the Arab village and that they buried it there. How is it, then, that you are here alive and unharmed? I have been searching the jungles for Luvini to your death. Perhaps it is well that I did not find him.”
“You would never have found him,” replied Jane Clayton, “but I cannot understand why Usula should have told you that he had found my body and buried it.”
“Some prisoners that he took,” replied Tarzan, “told him that Luvini had taken you bound hand and foot into one of the Arab huts near the village , and that there he had further secured you to a stake driven into the floor of the hut. After the village had been destro............