tarzan and the jewels of opar-第38节
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the narrow opening which separated the prisoner's tent
from that of the dead man。 Behind the silken wall he
halted and lowered his burden to the ground; and there
he remained motionless for several minutes; listening。
Satisfied; at last; that no one had seen him; he
stooped and raised the bottom of the tent wall; backed
in and dragged the thing that had been Mohammed Beyd
after him。 To the sleeping rugs of the dead raider he
drew the corpse; then he fumbled about in the darkness
until he had found Mohammed Beyd's revolver。 With the
weapon in his hand he returned to the side of the dead
man; kneeled beside the bedding; and inserted his right
hand with the weapon beneath the rugs; piled a number
of thicknesses of the closely woven fabric over and
about the revolver with his left hand。 Then he pulled
the trigger; and at the same time he coughed。
The muffled report could not have been heard above the
sound of his cough by one directly outside the tent。
Werper was satisfied。 A grim smile touched his lips as
he withdrew the weapon from the rugs and placed it
carefully in the right hand of the dead man; fixing
three of the fingers around the grip and the index
finger inside the trigger guard。
A moment longer he tarried to rearrange the disordered
rugs; and then he left as he had entered; fastening
down the rear wall of the tent as it had been before he
had raised it。
Going to the tent of the prisoner he removed there also
the evidence that someone might have come or gone
beneath the rear wall。 Then he returned to his own
tent; entered; fastened down the canvas; and crawled
into his blankets。
The following morning he was awakened by the excited
voice of Mohammed Beyd's slave calling to him at the
entrance of his tent。
〃Quick! Quick!〃 cried the black in a frightened tone。
〃Come! Mohammed Beyd is dead in his tentdead by his
own hand。〃
Werper sat up quickly in his blankets at the first
alarm; a startled expression upon his countenance; but
at the last words of the black a sigh of relief escaped
his lips and a slight smile replaced the tense lines
upon his face。
〃I come;〃 he called to the slave; and drawing on his
boots; rose and went out of his tent。
Excited Arabs and blacks were running from all parts of
the camp toward the silken tent of Mohammed Beyd; and
when Werper entered he found a number of the raiders
crowded about the corpse; now cold and stiff。
Shouldering his way among them; the Belgian halted
beside the dead body of the raider。 He looked down in
silence for a moment upon the still face; then he
wheeled upon the Arabs。
〃Who has done this thing?〃 he cried。 His tone was both
menacing and accusing。 〃Who has murdered Mohammed Beyd?〃
A sudden chorus of voices arose in tumultuous protest。
〃Mohammed Beyd was not murdered;〃 they cried。 〃He died
by his own hand。 This; and Allah; are our witnesses;〃
and they pointed to a revolver in the dead man's hand。
For a time Werper pretended to be skeptical; but at
last permitted himself to be convinced that Mohammed
Beyd had indeed killed himself in remorse for the death
of the white woman he had; all unknown to his
followers; loved so devotedly。
Werper himself wrapped the blankets of the dead man
about the corpse; taking care to fold inward the
scorched and bullet…torn fabric that had muffled the
report of the weapon he had fired the night before。
Then six husky blacks carried the body out into the
clearing where the camp stood; and deposited it in a
shallow grave。 As the loose earth fell upon the silent
form beneath the tell…tale blankets; Albert Werper
heaved another sigh of reliefhis plan had worked out
even better than he had dared hope。
With Achmet Zek and Mohammed Beyd both dead; the
raiders were without a leader; and after a brief
conference they decided to return into the north on
visits to the various tribes to which they belonged;
Werper; after learning the direction they intended
taking; announced that for his part; he was going east
to the coast; and as they knew of nothing he possessed
which any of them coveted; they signified their
willingness that he should go his way。
As they rode off; he sat his horse in the center of the
clearing watching them disappear one by one into the
jungle; and thanked his God that he had at last escaped
their villainous clutches。
When he could no longer hear any sound of them; he
turned to the right and rode into the forest toward the
tree where he had hidden Lady Greystoke; and drawing
rein beneath it; called up in a gay and hopeful voice a
pleasant; 〃Good morning!〃
There was no reply; and though his eyes searched the
thick foliage above him; he could see no sign of the
girl。 Dismounting; he quickly climbed into the tree;
where he could obtain a view of all its branches。 The
tree was emptyJane Clayton had vanished during the
silent watches of the jungle night。
22
Tarzan Recovers His Reason
As Tarzan let the pebbles from the recovered pouch run
through his fingers; his thoughts returned to the pile
of yellow ingots about which the Arabs and the
Abyssinians had waged their relentless battle。
What was there in common between that pile of dirty
metal and the beautiful; sparkling pebbles that had
formerly been in his pouch? What was the metal?
From whence had it come? What was that tantalizing
half…conviction which seemed to demand the recognition of
his memory that the yellow pile for which these men had
fought and died had been intimately connected with his
pastthat it had been his?
What had been his past? He shook his head。 Vaguely the
memory of his apish childhood passed slowly in review
then came a strangely tangled mass of faces; figures
and events which seemed to have no relation to Tarzan
of the Apes; and yet which were; even in their
fragmentary form; familiar。
Slowly and painfully; recollection was attempting to
reassert itself; the hurt brain was mending; as the
cause of its recent failure to function was being
slowly absorbed or removed by the healing processes of
perfect circulation。
The people who now passed before his mind's eye for the
first time in weeks wore familiar faces; but yet he
could neither place them in the niches they had once
filled in his past life; nor call them by name。 One
was a fair she; and it was her face which most often
moved through the tangled recollections of his
convalescing brain。 Who was she? What had she been to
Tarzan of the Apes? He seemed to see her about the very
spot upon which the pile of gold had been unearthed by
the Abyssinians; but the surroundings were vastly
different from those which now obtained。
There was a buildingthere were many buildingsand
there were hedges; fences; and flowers。 Tarzan
puckered his brow in puzzled study of the wonderful
problem。 For an instant he seemed to grasp the whole
of a true explanation; and then; just as success was
within his grasp; the picture faded into a jungle scene
where a naked; white youth danced in company with a
band of hairy; primordial ape…things。
Tarzan shook his head and sighed。 Why was it that he
could not recollect? At least he was sure that in some
way the pile of gold; the place where it lay; the
subtle aroma of the elusive she he had been pursuing;
the memory figure of the white woman; and he himself;
were inextricably connected by the ties of a forgotten
past。
If the woman belonged there; what better place to
search or await her than the very spot which his broken
recollections seemed to assign to her? It was worth
trying。 Tarzan slipped the thong of the empty pouch
over his shoulder and started off through the trees in
the direction of the plain。
At the outskirts of the forest he met the Arabs
returning in search of Achmet Zek。 Hiding; he let them
pass; and then resumed his way toward the charred ruins
of the home he had been almost upon the point of
recalling to his memory。
His journey across the plain was interrupted by the
discovery of a small herd of antelope in a little
swale; where the cover and the wind were well combined
to make stalking easy。 A fat yearling rewarded a half
hour of stealthy creeping and a sudden; savage rush;
and it was late in the afternoon when the ape…man
settled himself upon his haunches beside his kill to
enjoy the fruits of his skill; his cunning; and his
prowess。
His hunger satisfied; thirst next claimed his
attention。 The river lured him by the shortest path
toward its refreshing waters; and when he had drunk;
night already had fallen and he was some half mile or
more down stream from the point where he had seen the
pile of yellow ingots; and where he hoped to meet the
memory woman; or find some clew to her whereabouts or
her identity。