9

Tarzan, the Jewels of Opar

by Edgar R. Burroughs

9, TARZAN, THE JEWELS OF OPAR by Edgar R. Burroughs
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The Theft of the Jewels


For two days Werper sought for the party that had
accompanied him from the camp to the barrier cliffs;
but not until late in the afternoon of the second day
did he find clew to its whereabouts, and then in such
gruesome form that he was totally unnerved by the
sight.

In an open glade he came upon the bodies of three of
the blacks, terribly mutilated, nor did it require
considerable deductive power to explain their murder.
Of the little party only these three had not been
slaves. The others, evidently tempted to hope for
freedom from their cruel Arab master, had taken
advantage of their separation from the main camp, to
slay the three representatives of the hated power which
held them in slavery, and vanish into the jungle.

Cold sweat exuded from Werper's forehead as he
contemplated the fate which chance had permitted him to
escape, for had he been present when the conspiracy
bore fruit, he, too, must have been of the garnered.

Tarzan showed not the slightest surprise or interest in
the discovery. Inherent in him was a calloused
familiarity with violent death. The refinements of his
recent civilization expunged by the force of the sad
calamity which had befallen him, left only the
primitive sensibilities which his childhood's training
had imprinted indelibly upon the fabric of his mind.

The training of Kala, the examples and precepts of
Kerchak, of Tublat, and of Terkoz now formed the basis
of his every thought and action. He retained a
mechanical knowledge of French and English speech.
Werper had spoken to him in French, and Tarzan had
replied in the same tongue without conscious
realization that he had departed from the anthropoidal
speech in which he had addressed La. Had Werper used
English, the result would have been the same.

Again, that night, as the two sat before their camp
fire, Tarzan played with his shining baubles. Werper
asked him what they were and where he had found them.
The ape-man replied that they were gay-colored stones,
with which he purposed fashioning a necklace, and that
he had found them far beneath the sacrificial court of
the temple of the Flaming God.

Werper was relieved to find that Tarzan had no
conception of the value of the gems. This would make
it easier for the Belgian to obtain possession of them.
Possibly the man would give them to him for the asking.
Werper reached out his hand toward the little pile that
Tarzan had arranged upon a piece of flat wood before
him.

"Let me see them," said the Belgian.

Tarzan placed a large palm over his treasure. He bared
his fighting fangs, and growled. Werper withdrew his
hand more quickly than he had advanced it. Tarzan
resumed his playing with the gems, and his conversation
with Werper as though nothing unusual had occurred.
He had but exhibited the beast's jealous protective
instinct for a possession. When he killed he shared
the meat with Werper; but had Werper ever, by accident,
laid a hand upon Tarzan's share, he would have aroused
the same savage, and resentful warning.

From that occurrence dated the beginning of a great
fear in the breast of the Belgian for his savage
companion. He had never understood the transformation
that had been wrought in Tarzan by the blow upon his
head, other than to attribute it to a form of amnesia.
That Tarzan had once been, in truth, a savage, jungle
beast, Werper had not known, and so, of course, he
could not guess that the man had reverted to the state
in which his childhood and young manhood had been
spent.

Now Werper saw in the Englishman a dangerous maniac,
whom the slightest untoward accident might turn upon
him with rending fangs. Not for a moment did Werper
attempt to delude himself into the belief that he could
defend himself successfully against an attack by the
ape-man. His one hope lay in eluding him, and making
for the far distant camp of Achmet Zek as rapidly as he
could; but armed only with the sacrificial knife,
Werper shrank from attempting the journey through the
jungle. Tarzan constituted a protection that was by no
means despicable, even in the face of the larger
carnivora, as Werper had reason to acknowledge from the
evidence he had witnessed in the Oparian temple.

Too, Werper had his covetous soul set upon the pouch of
gems, and so he was torn between the various emotions
of avarice and fear. But avarice it was that burned
most strongly in his breast, to the end that he dared
the dangers and suffered the terrors of constant
association with him he thought a mad man, rather than
give up the hope of obtaining possession of the fortune
which the contents of the little pouch represented.

Achmet Zek should know nothing of these--these would be
for Werper alone, and so soon as he could encompass his
design he would reach the coast and take passage for
America, where he could conceal himself beneath the
veil of a new identity and enjoy to some measure the
fruits of his theft. He had it all planned out, did
Lieutenant Albert Werper, living in anticipation the
luxurious life of the idle rich. He even found himself
regretting that America was so provincial, and that
nowhere in the new world was a city that might compare
with his beloved Brussels.

It was upon the third day of their progress from Opar
that the keen ears of Tarzan caught the sound of men
behind them. Werper heard nothing above the humming of
the jungle insects, and the chattering life of the
lesser monkeys and the birds.

For a time Tarzan stood in statuesque silence,
listening, his sensitive nostrils dilating as he
assayed each passing breeze. Then he withdrew Werper
into the concealment of thick brush, and waited.
Presently, along the game trail that Werper and Tarzan
had been following, there came in sight a sleek,
black warrior, alert and watchful.

In single file behind him, there followed, one after
another, near fifty others, each burdened with two
dull-yellow ingots lashed upon his back. Werper
recognized the party immediately as that which had
accompanied Tarzan on his journey to Opar. He glanced
at the ape-man; but in the savage, watchful eyes he saw
no recognition of Basuli and those other loyal Waziri.

When all had passed, Tarzan rose and emerged from
concealment. He looked down the trail in the direction
the party had gone. Then he turned to Werper.

"We will follow and slay them," he said.

"Why?" asked the Belgian.

"They are black," explained Tarzan. "It was a black
who killed Kala. They are the enemies of the
Manganis."

Werper did not relish the idea of engaging in a battle
with Basuli and his fierce fighting men. And, again,
he had welcomed the sight of them returning toward the
Greystoke bungalow, for he had begun to have doubts as
to his ability to retrace his steps to the Waziri
country. Tarzan, he knew, had not the remotest idea of
whither they were going. By keeping at a safe distance
behind the laden warriors, they would have no
difficulty in following them home. Once at the
bungalow, Werper knew the way to the camp of Achmet
Zek. There was still another reason why he did not
wish to interfere with the Waziri--they were bearing
the great burden of treasure in the direction he wished
it borne. The farther they took it, the less the
distance that he and Achmet Zek would have to transport it.

He argued with the ape-man therefore, against the
latter's desire to exterminate the blacks, and at last
he prevailed upon Tarzan to follow them in peace,
saying that he was sure they would lead them out of the
forest into a rich country, teeming with game.

It was many marches from Opar to the Waziri country;
but at last came the hour when Tarzan and the Belgian,
following the trail of the warriors, topped the last
rise, and saw before them the broad Waziri plain, the
winding river, and the distant forests to the north and
west.

A mile or more ahead of them, the line of warriors was
creeping like a giant caterpillar through the tall
grasses of the plain. Beyond, grazing herds of zebra,
hartebeest, and topi dotted the level landscape, while
closer to the river a bull buffalo, his head and
shoulders protruding from the reeds watched the
advancing blacks for a moment, only to turn at last and
disappear into the safety of his dank and gloomy
retreat.

Tarzan looked out across the familiar vista with no
faintest gleam of recognition in his eyes. He saw the
game animals, and his mouth watered; but he did not
look in the direction of his bungalow. Werper,
however, did. A puzzled expression entered the
Belgian's eyes. He shaded them with his palms and
gazed long and earnestly toward the spot where the
bungalow had stood. He could not credit the testimony
of his eyes--there was no bungalow--no barns--no
out- houses. The corrals, the hay stacks--all were gone.
What could it mean?

And then, slowly there filtered into Werper's
consciousness an explanation of the havoc that had been
wrought in that peaceful valley since last his eyes had
rested upon it--Achmet Zek had been there!

Basuli and his warriors had noted the devastation the
moment they had come in sight of the farm. Now they
hastened on toward it talking excitedly among
themselves in animated speculation upon the cause and
meaning of the catastrophe.

When, at last they crossed the trampled garden and
stood before the charred ruins of their master's
bungalow, their greatest fears became convictions in
the light of the evidence about them.

Remnants of human dead, half devoured by prowling
hyenas and others of the carnivora which infested the
region, lay rotting upon the ground, and among the
corpses remained sufficient remnants of their clothing
and ornaments to make clear to Basuli the frightful
story of the disaster that had befallen his master's
house.

"The Arabs," he said, as his men clustered about him.

The Waziri gazed about in mute rage for several
minutes. Everywhere they encountered only further
evidence of the ruthlessness of the cruel enemy that
had come during the Great Bwana's absence and laid
waste his property.

"What did they with 'Lady'?" asked one of the blacks.

They had always called Lady Greystoke thus.

"The women they would have taken with them," said
Basuli. "Our women and his."

A giant black raised his spear above his head, and gave
voice to a savage cry of rage and hate. The others
followed his example. Basuli silenced them with a gesture.

"This is no time for useless noises of the mouth," he
said. "The Great Bwana has taught us that it is acts
by which things are done, not words. Let us save our
breath--we shall need it all to follow up the Arabs and
slay them. If 'Lady' and our women live the greater
the need of haste, and warriors cannot travel fast upon
empty lungs."

From the shelter of the reeds along the river, Werper
and Tarzan watched the blacks. They saw them dig a
trench with their knives and fingers. They saw them
lay their yellow burdens in it and scoop the overturned
earth back over the tops of the ingots.

Tarzan seemed little interested, after Werper had
assured him that that which they buried was not good to
eat; but Werper was intensely interested. He would
have given much had he had his own followers with him,
that he might take away the treasure as soon as the
blacks left, for he was sure that they would leave this
scene of desolation and death as soon as possible.

The treasure buried, the blacks removed themselves a
short distance up wind from the fetid corpses, where
they made camp, that they might rest before setting out
in pursuit of the Arabs. It was already dusk. Werper
and Tarzan sat devouring some pieces of meat they had
brought from their last camp. The Belgian was occupied
with his plans for the immediate future. He was
positive that the Waziri would pursue Achmet Zek,
for he knew enough of savage warfare, and of the
characteristics of the Arabs and their degraded
followers to guess that they had carried the Waziri
women off into slavery. This alone would assure
immediate pursuit by so warlike a people as the Waziri.

Werper felt that he should find the means and the
opportunity to push on ahead, that he might warn Achmet
Zek of the coming of Basuli, and also of the location
of the buried treasure. What the Arab would now do
with Lady Greystoke, in view of the mental affliction
of her husband, Werper neither knew nor cared. It was
enough that the golden treasure buried upon the site of
the burned bungalow was infinitely more valuable than
any ransom that would have occurred even to the
avaricious mind of the Arab, and if Werper could
persuade the raider to share even a portion of it with
him he would be well satisfied.

But by far the most important consideration, to Werper,
at least, was the incalculably valuable treasure in the
little leathern pouch at Tarzan's side. If he could
but obtain possession of this! He must! He would!

His eyes wandered to the object of his greed.
They measured Tarzan's giant frame, and rested upon
the rounded muscles of his arms. It was hopeless.
What could he, Werper, hope to accomplish, other than his
own death, by an attempt to wrest the gems from their
savage owner?

Disconsolate, Werper threw himself upon his side.
His head was pillowed on one arm, the other rested across
his face in such a way that his eyes were hidden from
the ape-man, though one of them was fastened upon him
from beneath the shadow of the Belgian's forearm.
For a time he lay thus, glowering at Tarzan, and
originating schemes for plundering him of his treasure--
schemes that were discarded as futile as rapidly as
they were born.

Tarzan presently let his own eyes rest upon Werper.
The Belgian saw that he was being watched, and lay very
still. After a few moments he simulated the regular
breathing of deep slumber.

Tarzan had been thinking. He had seen the Waziri bury
their belongings. Werper had told him that they were
hiding them lest some one find them and take them away.
This seemed to Tarzan a splendid plan for safeguarding
valuables. Since Werper had evinced a desire to
possess his glittering pebbles, Tarzan, with the
suspicions of a savage, had guarded the baubles, of
whose worth he was entirely ignorant, as zealously as
though they spelled life or death to him.

For a long time the ape-man sat watching his companion.
At last, convinced that he slept, Tarzan withdrew his
hunting knife and commenced to dig a hole in the ground
before him. With the blade he loosened up the earth,
and with his hands he scooped it out until he had
excavated a little cavity a few inches in diameter, and
five or six inches in depth. Into this he placed the
pouch of jewels. Werper almost forgot to breathe after
the fashion of a sleeper as he saw what the ape-man was
doing--he scarce repressed an ejaculation of
satisfaction.

Tarzan become suddenly rigid as his keen ears noted the
cessation of the regular inspirations and expirations
of his companion. His narrowed eyes bored straight
down upon the Belgian. Werper felt that he was lost--
he must risk all on his ability to carry on the
deception. He sighed, threw both arms outward, and
turned over on his back mumbling as though in the
throes of a bad dream. A moment later he resumed the
regular breathing.

Now he could not watch Tarzan, but he was sure that the
man sat for a long time looking at him. Then, faintly,
Werper heard the other's hands scraping dirt, and later
patting it down. He knew then that the jewels were
buried.

It was an hour before Werper moved again, then he
rolled over facing Tarzan and opened his eyes. The
ape-man slept. By reaching out his hand Werper could
touch the spot where the pouch was buried.

For a long time he lay watching and listening.
He moved about, making more noise than necessary,
yet Tarzan did not awaken. He drew the sacrificial knife
from his belt, and plunged it into the ground.
Tarzan did not move. Cautiously the Belgian pushed the
blade downward through the loose earth above the pouch.
He felt the point touch the soft, tough fabric of the
leather. Then he pried down upon the handle.
Slowly the little mound of loose earth rose and parted.
An instant later a corner of the pouch came into view.
Werper pulled it from its hiding place, and tucked it
in his shirt. Then he refilled the hole and pressed
the dirt carefully down as it had been before.

Greed had prompted him to an act, the discovery of
which by his companion could lead only to the most
frightful consequences for Werper. Already he could
almost feel those strong, white fangs burying
themselves in his neck. He shuddered. Far out across
the plain a leopard screamed, and in the dense reeds
behind him some great beast moved on padded feet.

Werper feared these prowlers of the night; but
infinitely more he feared the just wrath of the human
beast sleeping at his side. With utmost caution the
Belgian arose. Tarzan did not move. Werper took a few
steps toward the plain and the distant forest to the
northwest, then he paused and fingered the hilt of the
long knife in his belt. He turned and looked down upon
the sleeper.

"Why not?" he mused. "Then I should be safe."

He returned and bent above the ape-man. Clutched
tightly in his hand was the sacrificial knife of the
High Priestess of the Flaming God!