Tarzan the Terrible - The Original Classic Edition. Burroughs Edgar. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Burroughs Edgar
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Учебная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781486414659
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"We can but follow while the spoor is fresh," answered the ape-man and again taking up his interrupted tracking he led them down the ridge and at a sharp turning of the trail to the left brought them to the verge of the cliff that dropped into the Kor-ul-lul. For a moment Tarzan examined the ground to the right and to the left, then he stood erect and looking at Om-at pointed into the gorge.

       For a moment the Waz-don gazed down into the green rift at the bottom of which a tumultuous river tumbled downward along its

       rocky bed, then he closed his eyes as to a sudden spasm of pain and turned away. "You--mean--she jumped?" he asked.

       "To escape the lion," replied Tarzan. "He was right behind her--look, you can see where his four paws left their impress in the turf as he checked his charge upon the very verge of the abyss."

       "Is there any chance--" commenced Om-at, to be suddenly silenced by a warning gesture from Tarzan.

       "Down!" whispered the ape-man, "many men are coming. They are running--from down the ridge." He flattened himself upon his belly in the grass, the others following his example.

       For some minutes they waited thus and then the others, too, heard the sound of running feet and now a hoarse shout followed by

       many more.

       "It is the war cry of the Kor-ul-lul," whispered Om-at--"the hunting cry of men who hunt men. Presently shall we see them and if

       Jad-ben-Otho is pleased with us they shall not too greatly outnumber us."

       "They are many," said Tarzan, "forty or fifty, I should say; but how many are the pursued and how many the pursuers we cannot even guess, except that the latter must greatly outnumber the former, else these would not run so fast."

       "Here they come," said Ta-den.

       "It is An-un, father of Pan-at-lee, and his two sons," exclaimed O-dan. "They will pass without seeing us if we do not hurry," he added looking at Om-at, the chief, for a sign.

       "Come!" cried the latter, springing to his feet and running rapidly to intercept the three fugitives. The others followed him. "Five friends!" shouted Om-at as An-un and his sons discovered them.

       "Adenen yo!" echoed O-dan and In-sad.

       The fugitives scarcely paused as these unexpected reinforcements joined them but they eyed Ta-den and Tarzan with puzzled glances. "The Kor-ul-lul are many," shouted An-un. "Would that we might pause and fight; but first we must warn Es-sat and our people." "Yes," said Om-at, "we must warn our people."

       "Es-sat is dead," said In-sad.

       "Who is chief ?" asked one of An-un's sons. "Om-at," replied O-dan.

       "It is well," cried An-un. "Pan-at-lee said that you would come back and slay Es-sat." Now the enemy broke into sight behind them.

       "Come!" cried Tarzan, "let us turn and charge them, raising a great cry. They pursued but three and when they see eight charging

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       upon them they will think that many men have come to do battle. They will believe that there are more even than they see and then one who is swift will have time to reach the gorge and warn your people."

       "It is well," said Om-at. "Id-an, you are swift--carry word to the warriors of Kor-ul-ja that we fight the Kor-ul-lul upon the ridge and that Ab-on shall send a hundred men."

       Id-an, the son of An-un, sped swiftly toward the cliff-dwellings of the Kor-ul-ja while the others charged the oncoming Kor-ul- lul, the war cries of the two tribes rising and falling in a certain grim harmony. The leaders of the Kor-ul-lul paused at sight of the reinforcements, waiting apparently for those behind to catch up with them and, possibly, also to learn how great a force confronted them. The leaders, swifter runners than their fellows, perhaps, were far in advance while the balance of their number had not yet emerged from the brush; and now as Om-at and his companions fell upon them with a ferocity born of necessity they fell back,

       so that when their companions at last came in sight of them they appeared to be in full rout. The natural result was that the others turned and fled.

       Encouraged by this first success Om-at followed them into the brush, his little company charging valiantly upon his either side, and loud and terrifying were the savage yells with which they pursued the fleeing enemy. The brush, while not growing so closely together as to impede progress, was of such height as to hide the members of the party from one another when they became separated by even a few yards. The result was that Tarzan, always swift and always keen for battle, was soon pursuing the enemy far in the lead of the others--a lack of prudence which was to prove his undoing.

       The warriors of Kor-ul-lul, doubtless as valorous as their foemen, retreated only to a more strategic position in the brush, nor were they long in guessing that the number of their pursuers was fewer than their own. They made a stand then where the brush was densest--an ambush it was, and into this ran Tarzan of the Apes. They tricked him neatly. Yes, sad as is the narration of it, they tricked the wily jungle lord. But then they were fighting on their own ground, every foot of which they knew as you know your front parlor, and they were following their own tactics, of which Tarzan knew nothing.

       A single black warrior appeared to Tarzan a laggard in the rear of the retreating enemy and thus retreating he lured Tarzan on. At last he turned at bay confronting the ape-man with bludgeon and drawn knife and as Tarzan charged him a score of burly Waz-don leaped from the surrounding brush. Instantly, but too late, the giant Tarmangani realized his peril. There flashed before him a vision of his lost mate and a great and sickening regret surged through him with the realization that if she still lived she might no longer hope, for though she might never know of the passing of her lord the fact of it must inevitably seal her doom.

       And consequent to this thought there enveloped him a blind frenzy of hatred for these creatures who dared thwart his purpose and menace the welfare of his wife. With a savage growl he threw himself upon the warrior before him twisting the heavy club from the creature's hand as if he had been a little child, and with his left fist backed by the weight and sinew of his giant frame, he crashed a shattering blow to the center of the Waz-don's face--a blow that crushed the bones and dropped the fellow in his tracks. Then he swung upon the others with their fallen comrade's bludgeon striking to right and left mighty, unmerciful blows that drove down their own weapons until that wielded by the ape-man was splintered and shattered. On either hand they fell before his cudgel; so rapid the delivery of his blows, so catlike his recovery that in the first few moments of the battle he seemed invulnerable to their attack; but it could not last--he was outnumbered twenty to one and his undoing came from a thrown club. It struck him upon the back of the head. For a moment he stood swaying and then like a great pine beneath the woodsman's ax he crashed to earth.

       Others of the Kor-ul-lul had rushed to engage the balance of Om-at's party. They could be heard fighting at a short distance and it was evident that the Kor-ul-ja were falling slowly back and as they fell Om-at called to the missing one: "Tarzan the Terrible! Tarzan the Terrible!"

       "Jad-guru, indeed," repeated one of the Kor-ul-lul rising from where Tarzan had dropped him. "Tarzan-jad-guru! He was worse than that."

       5

       In the Kor-ul-gryf

       As Tarzan fell among his enemies a man halted many miles away upon the outer verge of the morass that encircles Pal-ul-don. Na-ked he was except for a loin cloth and three belts of cartridges, two of which passed over his shoulders, crossing upon his chest and

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       back, while the third encircled his waist. Slung to his back by its leathern sling-strap was an Enfield, and he carried too a long knife, a bow and a quiver of arrows. He had come far, through wild and savage lands, menaced by fierce beasts and fiercer men, yet intact to the last cartridge was the ammunition that had filled his belts the day that he set out.

       The bow and the arrows and the long knife had brought him thus far safely, yet often in the face of great risks that could have been minimized by a single shot from the well-kept rifle at his back. What purpose might he have for conserving this precious ammunition? in risking his life to bring the last bright shining missile to his unknown goal? For what, for whom were these death-dealing bits of metal preserved? In all