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The Son of Tarzan

E >> Edgar Rice Burroughs >> The Son of Tarzan



The Son Of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs






To Hulbert Burroughs





Chapter 1





The long boat of the Marjorie W. was floating down the broad Ugambi
with ebb tide and current. Her crew were lazily enjoying this
respite from the arduous labor of rowing up stream. Three miles
below them lay the Marjorie W. herself, quite ready to sail so
soon as they should have clambered aboard and swung the long boat
to its davits. Presently the attention of every man was drawn from
his dreaming or his gossiping to the northern bank of the river.
There, screaming at them in a cracked falsetto and with skinny arms
outstretched, stood a strange apparition of a man.

"Wot the 'ell?" ejaculated one of the crew.

"A white man!" muttered the mate, and then: "Man the oars, boys,
and we'll just pull over an' see what he wants."

When they came close to the shore they saw an emaciated creature
with scant white locks tangled and matted. The thin, bent body
was naked but for a loin cloth. Tears were rolling down the sunken
pock-marked cheeks. The man jabbered at them in a strange tongue.

"Rooshun," hazarded the mate. "Savvy English?" he called to the
man.

He did, and in that tongue, brokenly and haltingly, as though it
had been many years since he had used it, he begged them to take him
with them away from this awful country. Once on board the Marjorie
W. the stranger told his rescuers a pitiful tale of privation,
hardships, and torture, extending over a period of ten years. How
he happened to have come to Africa he did not tell them, leaving
them to assume he had forgotten the incidents of his life prior to
the frightful ordeals that had wrecked him mentally and physically.
He did not even tell them his true name, and so they knew him only
as Michael Sabrov, nor was there any resemblance between this sorry
wreck and the virile, though unprincipled, Alexis Paulvitch of old.

It had been ten years since the Russian had escaped the fate of his
friend, the arch-fiend Rokoff, and not once, but many times during
those ten years had Paulvitch cursed the fate that had given
to Nicholas Rokoff death and immunity from suffering while it had
meted to him the hideous terrors of an existence infinitely worse
than the death that persistently refused to claim him.

Paulvitch had taken to the jungle when he had seen the beasts of
Tarzan and their savage lord swarm the deck of the Kincaid, and in
his terror lest Tarzan pursue and capture him he had stumbled on
deep into the jungle, only to fall at last into the hands of one
of the savage cannibal tribes that had felt the weight of Rokoff's
evil temper and cruel brutality. Some strange whim of the chief
of this tribe saved Paulvitch from death only to plunge him into a
life of misery and torture. For ten years he had been the butt of
the village, beaten and stoned by the women and children, cut and
slashed and disfigured by the warriors; a victim of often recurring
fevers of the most malignant variety. Yet he did not die. Smallpox
laid its hideous clutches upon him; leaving him unspeakably branded
with its repulsive marks. Between it and the attentions of the
tribe the countenance of Alexis Paulvitch was so altered that his
own mother could not have recognized in the pitiful mask he called
his face a single familiar feature. A few scraggly, yellow-white
locks had supplanted the thick, dark hair that had covered his
head. His limbs were bent and twisted, he walked with a shuffling,
unsteady gait, his body doubled forward. His teeth were gone--knocked
out by his savage masters. Even his mentality was but a sorry
mockery of what it once had been.

They took him aboard the Marjorie W., and there they fed and nursed
him. He gained a little in strength; but his appearance never
altered for the better--a human derelict, battered and wrecked,
they had found him; a human derelict, battered and wrecked, he
would remain until death claimed him. Though still in his thirties,
Alexis Paulvitch could easily have passed for eighty. Inscrutable
Nature had demanded of the accomplice a greater penalty than his
principal had paid.

In the mind of Alexis Paulvitch there lingered no thoughts
of revenge--only a dull hatred of the man whom he and Rokoff had
tried to break, and failed. There was hatred, too, of the memory
of Rokoff, for Rokoff had led him into the horrors he had undergone.
There was hatred of the police of a score of cities from which he
had had to flee. There was hatred of law, hatred of order, hatred
of everything. Every moment of the man's waking life was filled
with morbid thought of hatred--he had become mentally as he
was physically in outward appearance, the personification of the
blighting emotion of Hate. He had little or nothing to do with the
men who had rescued him. He was too weak to work and too morose
for company, and so they quickly left him alone to his own devices.

The Marjorie W. had been chartered by a syndicate of wealthy manufacturers,
equipped with a laboratory and a staff of scientists, and sent out
to search for some natural product which the manufacturers who footed
the bills had been importing from South America at an enormous cost.
What the product was none on board the Marjorie W. knew except the
scientists, nor is it of any moment to us, other than that it led
the ship to a certain island off the coast of Africa after Alexis
Paulvitch had been taken aboard.

The ship lay at anchor off the coast for several weeks. The
monotony of life aboard her became trying for the crew. They went
often ashore, and finally Paulvitch asked to accompany them--he too
was tiring of the blighting sameness of existence upon the ship.

The island was heavily timbered. Dense jungle ran down almost to
the beach. The scientists were far inland, prosecuting their search
for the valuable commodity that native rumor upon the mainland had
led them to believe might be found here in marketable quantity. The
ship's company fished, hunted, and explored. Paulvitch shuffled
up and down the beach, or lay in the shade of the great trees that
skirted it. One day, as the men were gathered at a little distance
inspecting the body of a panther that had fallen to the gun of one
of them who had been hunting inland, Paulvitch lay sleeping beneath
his tree. He was awakened by the touch of a hand upon his shoulder.
With a start he sat up to see a huge, anthropoid ape squatting
at his side, inspecting him intently. The Russian was thoroughly
frightened. He glanced toward the sailors--they were a couple of
hundred yards away. Again the ape plucked at his shoulder, jabbering
plaintively. Paulvitch saw no menace in the inquiring gaze, or
in the attitude of the beast. He got slowly to his feet. The ape
rose at his side.

Half doubled, the man shuffled cautiously away toward the sailors.
The ape moved with him, taking one of his arms. They had come almost
to the little knot of men before they were seen, and by this time
Paulvitch had become assured that the beast meant no harm. The
animal evidently was accustomed to the association of human beings.
It occurred to the Russian that the ape represented a certain
considerable money value, and before they reached the sailors he
had decided he should be the one to profit by it.

When the men looked up and saw the oddly paired couple shuffling
toward them they were filled with amazement, and started on a run
toward the two. The ape showed no sign of fear. Instead he grasped
each sailor by the shoulder and peered long and earnestly into his
face. Having inspected them all he returned to Paulvitch's side,
disappointment written strongly upon his countenance and in his
carriage.

The men were delighted with him. They gathered about, asking
Paulvitch many questions, and examining his companion. The Russian
told them that the ape was his--nothing further would he offer--but
kept harping continually upon the same theme, "The ape is mine.
The ape is mine." Tiring of Paulvitch, one of the men essayed a
pleasantry. Circling about behind the ape he prodded the anthropoid
in the back with a pin. Like a flash the beast wheeled upon its
tormentor, and, in the briefest instant of turning, the placid,
friendly animal was metamorphosed to a frenzied demon of rage. The
broad grin that had sat upon the sailor's face as he perpetrated
his little joke froze to an expression of terror. He attempted to
dodge the long arms that reached for him; but, failing, drew a long
knife that hung at his belt. With a single wrench the ape tore
the weapon from the man's grasp and flung it to one side, then his
yellow fangs were buried in the sailor's shoulder.

With sticks and knives the man's companions fell upon the beast,
while Paulvitch danced around the cursing snarling pack mumbling
and screaming pleas and threats. He saw his visions of wealth
rapidly dissipating before the weapons of the sailors.

The ape, however, proved no easy victim to the superior numbers
that seemed fated to overwhelm him. Rising from the sailor who
had precipitated the battle he shook his giant shoulders, freeing
himself from two of the men that were clinging to his back, and
with mighty blows of his open palms felled one after another of his
attackers, leaping hither and thither with the agility of a small
monkey.

The fight had been witnessed by the captain and mate who were
just landing from the Marjorie W., and Paulvitch saw these two now
running forward with drawn revolvers while the two sailors who had
brought them ashore trailed at their heels. The ape stood looking
about him at the havoc he had wrought, but whether he was awaiting
a renewal of the attack or was deliberating which of his foes he
should exterminate first Paulvitch could not guess. What he could
guess, however, was that the moment the two officers came within
firing distance of the beast they would put an end to him in short
order unless something were done and done quickly to prevent. The
ape had made no move to attack the Russian but even so the man was
none too sure of what might happen were he to interfere with the
savage beast, now thoroughly aroused to bestial rage, and with the
smell of new spilled blood fresh in its nostrils. For an instant
he hesitated, and then again there rose before him the dreams of
affluence which this great anthropoid would doubtless turn to realities
once Paulvitch had landed him safely in some great metropolis like
London.

The captain was shouting to him now to stand aside that he might
have a shot at the animal; but instead Paulvitch shuffled to the
ape's side, and though the man's hair quivered at its roots he
mastered his fear and laid hold of the ape's arm.

"Come!" he commanded, and tugged to pull the beast from among the
sailors, many of whom were now sitting up in wide eyed fright or
crawling away from their conqueror upon hands and knees.

Slowly the ape permitted itself to be led to one side, nor did it
show the slightest indication of a desire to harm the Russian. The
captain came to a halt a few paces from the odd pair.

"Get aside, Sabrov!" he commanded. "I'll put that brute where he
won't chew up any more able seamen."

"It wasn't his fault, captain," pleaded Paulvitch. "Please don't
shoot him. The men started it--they attacked him first. You see,
he's perfectly gentle--and he's mine--he's mine--he's mine! I
won't let you kill him," he concluded, as his half-wrecked mentality
pictured anew the pleasure that money would buy in London--money
that he could not hope to possess without some such windfall as
the ape represented.

The captain lowered his weapon. "The men started it, did they?"
he repeated. "How about that?" and he turned toward the sailors
who had by this time picked themselves from the ground, none of
them much the worse for his experience except the fellow who had
been the cause of it, and who would doubtless nurse a sore shoulder
for a week or so.

"Simpson done it," said one of the men. "He stuck a pin into the
monk from behind, and the monk got him--which served him bloomin'
well right--an' he got the rest of us, too, for which I can't blame
him, since we all jumped him to once."

The captain looked at Simpson, who sheepishly admitted the truth
of the allegation, then he stepped over to the ape as though to
discover for himself the sort of temper the beast possessed, but
it was noticeable that he kept his revolver cocked and leveled as
he did so. However, he spoke soothingly to the animal who squatted
at the Russian's side looking first at one and then another of
the sailors. As the captain approached him the ape half rose and
waddled forward to meet him. Upon his countenance was the same
strange, searching expression that had marked his scrutiny of each
of the sailors he had first encountered. He came quite close to
the officer and laid a paw upon one of the man's shoulders, studying
his face intently for a long moment, then came the expression of
disappointment accompanied by what was almost a human sigh, as he
turned away to peer in the same curious fashion into the faces of
the mate and the two sailors who had arrived with the officers.
In each instance he sighed and passed on, returning at length
to Paulvitch's side, where he squatted down once more; thereafter
evincing little or no interest in any of the other men, and apparently
forgetful of his recent battle with them.

When the party returned aboard the Marjorie W., Paulvitch was
accompanied by the ape, who seemed anxious to follow him. The
captain interposed no obstacles to the arrangement, and so the
great anthropoid was tacitly admitted to membership in the ship's
company. Once aboard he examined each new face minutely, evincing the
same disappointment in each instance that had marked his scrutiny
of the others. The officers and scientists aboard often discussed
the beast, but they were unable to account satisfactorily for the
strange ceremony with which he greeted each new face. Had he been
discovered upon the mainland, or any other place than the almost
unknown island that had been his home, they would have concluded
that he had formerly been a pet of man; but that theory was not
tenable in the face of the isolation of his uninhabited island. He
seemed continually to be searching for someone, and during the first
days of the return voyage from the island he was often discovered
nosing about in various parts of the ship; but after he had seen
and examined each face of the ship's company, and explored every
corner of the vessel he lapsed into utter indifference of all about
him. Even the Russian elicited only casual interest when he brought
him food. At other times the ape appeared merely to tolerate him.
He never showed affection for him, or for anyone else upon the
Marjorie W., nor did he at any time evince any indication of the
savage temper that had marked his resentment of the attack of the
sailors upon him at the time that he had come among them.

Most of his time was spent in the eye of the ship scanning the
horizon ahead, as though he were endowed with sufficient reason to
know that the vessel was bound for some port where there would be
other human beings to undergo his searching scrutiny. All in all,
Ajax, as he had been dubbed, was considered the most remarkable
and intelligent ape that any one aboard the Marjorie W. ever had
seen. Nor was his intelligence the only remarkable attribute he
owned. His stature and physique were, for an ape, awe inspiring.
That he was old was quite evident, but if his age had impaired his
physical or mental powers in the slightest it was not apparent.

And so at length the Marjorie W. came to England, and there the
officers and the scientists, filled with compassion for the pitiful
wreck of a man they had rescued from the jungles, furnished Paulvitch
with funds and bid him and his Ajax Godspeed.

Upon the dock and all through the journey to London the Russian
had his hands full with Ajax. Each new face of the thousands that
came within the anthropoid's ken must be carefully scrutinized,
much to the horror of many of his victims; but at last, failing,
apparently, to discover whom he sought, the great ape relapsed
into morbid indifference, only occasionally evincing interest in
a passing face.

In London, Paulvitch went directly with his prize to a certain
famous animal trainer. This man was much impressed with Ajax with
the result that he agreed to train him for a lion's share of the
profits of exhibiting him, and in the meantime to provide for the
keep of both the ape and his owner.

And so came Ajax to London, and there was forged another link in
the chain of strange circumstances that were to affect the lives
of many people.





Chapter 2




Mr. Harold Moore was a bilious-countenanced, studious young man. He
took himself very seriously, and life, and his work, which latter
was the tutoring of the young son of a British nobleman. He felt
that his charge was not making the progress that his parents had
a right to expect, and he was now conscientiously explaining this
fact to the boy's mother.

"It's not that he isn't bright," he was saying; "if that were true
I should have hopes of succeeding, for then I might bring to bear
all my energies in overcoming his obtuseness; but the trouble is
that he is exceptionally intelligent, and learns so quickly that I
can find no fault in the matter of the preparation of his lessons.
What concerns me, however, is that fact that he evidently takes
no interest whatever in the subjects we are studying. He merely
accomplishes each lesson as a task to be rid of as quickly as
possible and I am sure that no lesson ever again enters his mind
until the hours of study and recitation once more arrive. His sole
interests seem to be feats of physical prowess and the reading of
everything that he can get hold of relative to savage beasts and
the lives and customs of uncivilized peoples; but particularly do
stories of animals appeal to him. He will sit for hours together
poring over the work of some African explorer, and upon two
occasions I have found him setting up in bed at night reading Carl
Hagenbeck's book on men and beasts."

The boy's mother tapped her foot nervously upon the hearth rug.

"You discourage this, of course?" she ventured.

Mr. Moore shuffled embarrassedly.

"I--ah--essayed to take the book from him," he replied, a slight
flush mounting his sallow cheek; "but--ah--your son is quite muscular
for one so young."

"He wouldn't let you take it?" asked the mother.

"He would not," confessed the tutor. "He was perfectly good natured
about it; but he insisted upon pretending that he was a gorilla
and that I was a chimpanzee attempting to steal food from him. He
leaped upon me with the most savage growls I ever heard, lifted me
completely above his head, hurled me upon his bed, and after going
through a pantomime indicative of choking me to death he stood upon
my prostrate form and gave voice to a most fearsome shriek, which
he explained was the victory cry of a bull ape. Then he carried
me to the door, shoved me out into the hall and locked me from his
room."

For several minutes neither spoke again. It was the boy's mother
who finally broke the silence.

"It is very necessary, Mr. Moore," she said, "that you do everything
in your power to discourage this tendency in Jack, he--"; but she
got no further. A loud "Whoop!" from the direction of the window
brought them both to their feet. The room was upon the second floor
of the house, and opposite the window to which their attention had
been attracted was a large tree, a branch of which spread to within
a few feet of the sill. Upon this branch now they both discovered
the subject of their recent conversation, a tall, well-built boy,
balancing with ease upon the bending limb and uttering loud shouts
of glee as he noted the terrified expressions upon the faces of
his audience.

The mother and tutor both rushed toward the window but before they
had crossed half the room the boy had leaped nimbly to the sill
and entered the apartment with them.

"`The wild man from Borneo has just come to town,'" he sang, dancing
a species of war dance about his terrified mother and scandalized
tutor, and ending up by throwing his arms about the former's neck
and kissing her upon either cheek.

"Oh, Mother," he cried, "there's a wonderful, educated ape being
shown at one of the music halls. Willie Grimsby saw it last night.
He says it can do everything but talk. It rides a bicycle, eats with
knife and fork, counts up to ten, and ever so many other wonderful
things, and can I go and see it too? Oh, please, Mother--please
let me."

Patting the boy's cheek affectionately, the mother shook her head
negatively. "No, Jack," she said; "you know I do not approve of
such exhibitions."

"I don't see why not, Mother," replied the boy. "All the other
fellows go and they go to the Zoo, too, and you'll never let me do
even that. Anybody'd think I was a girl--or a mollycoddle. Oh,
Father," he exclaimed, as the door opened to admit a tall gray-eyed
man. "Oh, Father, can't I go?"

"Go where, my son?" asked the newcomer.

"He wants to go to a music hall to see a trained ape," said the
mother, looking warningly at her husband.

"Who, Ajax?" questioned the man.

The boy nodded.

"Well, I don't know that I blame you, my son," said the father, "I
wouldn't mind seeing him myself. They say he is very wonderful,
and that for an anthropoid he is unusually large. Let's all go,
Jane--what do you say?" And he turned toward his wife, but that
lady only shook her head in a most positive manner, and turning
to Mr. Moore asked him if it was not time that he and Jack were in
the study for the morning recitations. When the two had left she
turned toward her husband.

"John," she said, "something must be done to discourage Jack's
tendency toward anything that may excite the cravings for the savage
life which I fear he has inherited from you. You know from your
own experience how strong is the call of the wild at times. You
know that often it has necessitated a stern struggle on your part
to resist the almost insane desire which occasionally overwhelms you
to plunge once again into the jungle life that claimed you for so
many years, and at the same time you know, better than any other,
how frightful a fate it would be for Jack, were the trail to the
savage jungle made either alluring or easy to him."

"I doubt if there is any danger of his inheriting a taste for jungle
life from me," replied the man, "for I cannot conceive that such a
thing may be transmitted from father to son. And sometimes, Jane,
I think that in your solicitude for his future you go a bit too far
in your restrictive measures. His love for animals--his desire,
for example, to see this trained ape--is only natural in a healthy,
normal boy of his age. Just because he wants to see Ajax is
no indication that he would wish to marry an ape, and even should
he, far be it from you Jane to have the right to cry `shame!'" and
John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, put an arm about his wife, laughing
good-naturedly down into her upturned face before he bent his head
and kissed her. Then, more seriously, he continued: "You have
never told Jack anything concerning my early life, nor have you
permitted me to, and in this I think that you have made a mistake.
Had I been able to tell him of the experiences of Tarzan of the
Apes I could doubtless have taken much of the glamour and romance
from jungle life that naturally surrounds it in the minds of those
who have had no experience of it. He might then have profited by
my experience, but now, should the jungle lust ever claim him, he
will have nothing to guide him but his own impulses, and I know
how powerful these may be in the wrong direction at times."

But Lady Greystoke only shook her head as she had a hundred other
times when the subject had claimed her attention in the past.

"No, John," she insisted, "I shall never give my consent to the
implanting in Jack's mind of any suggestion of the savage life
which we both wish to preserve him from."

It was evening before the subject was again referred to and then
it was raised by Jack himself. He had been sitting, curled in a
large chair, reading, when he suddenly looked up and addressed his
father.

"Why," he asked, coming directly to the point, "can't I go and see
Ajax?"

"Your mother does not approve," replied his father.

"Do you?"

"That is not the question," evaded Lord Greystoke. "It is enough
that your mother objects."

"I am going to see him," announced the boy, after a few moments
of thoughtful silence. "I am not different from Willie Grimsby,
or any other of the fellows who have been to see him. It did not
harm them and it will not harm me. I could go without telling you;
but I would not do that. So I tell you now, beforehand, that I am
going to see Ajax."

There was nothing disrespectful or defiant in the boy's tone or
manner. His was merely a dispassionate statement of facts. His
father could scarce repress either a smile or a show of the admiration
he felt for the manly course his son had pursued.

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