Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“I am Tarzan of the Apes,” he said; “your camp is entirely surrounded by
my warriors. Make no move against us and we shall not hurt you.”
He waved his hand. Fifty stalwart Waziri stepped into view from the
concealing verdure of the surrounding jungle. The askari eyed them in
ill-concealed terror, fingering their rifles nervously.
“Do not shoot,” cautioned Esteban, “or we shall slay you all.” He
approached more closely and his Waziri closed in about him, entirely
surrounding the boma.
“Speak to them, Usula,” said Esteban. The black stepped forward.
“We are the Waziri,” he cried, “and this is Tarzan of the Apes, Lord of
the Jungle, our master. We have come to recover the gold of Tarzan that
you have stolen from the treasure vaults of Opar. This time we shall
spare you on condition that you leave the country and never return. Tell
this word to your masters; tell them that Tarzan watches, and that his
Waziri watch with him. Lay down your rifles.”
The askari, glad to escape so easily, complied with the demands of
Usula, and a moment later the Waziri had entered the boma, and at
Esteban’s direction were gathering up the golden ingots. As they worked,
Esteban approached one of the askari, whom he knew spoke broken English.
“Tell your master,” he said, “to give thanks for the mercy of Tarzan who
has exacted a toll of but one life for this invasion of his country and
theft of his treasure. The creature who presumes to pose as Tarzan I
have slain, and his body I shall take away with me and feed to the
lions. Tell them that Tarzan forgives even their attempt to poison him
upon the occasion that he visited their camp, but only upon the
condition that they never return to Africa, and that they divulge the
secret of Opar to no others. Tarzan watches and his Waziri watch, and no
man may enter Africa without Tarzan’s knowledge. Even before they left
London I knew that they were coming. Tell them that.”
It took but a few minutes for the Waziri to gather up the golden ingots,
and before the askari had recovered from the surprise of their
appearance, they had gone again into the jungle, with Tarzan, their
master.
It was late in the afternoon before Flora and the four white men
returned from their hunt, surrounded by happy, laughing blacks, bearing
the fruits of a successful chase.
“Now that you are in charge, Flora,” Kraski was saying, “fortune is
smiling upon us indeed. We have enough meat here for several days, and
with plenty of meat in their bellies they ought to make good progress.”
“I vill say it myself dot t’ings look brighter,” said Bluber.
“Blime, they do that,” said Throck. “I’m tellin’ yu Flora’s a bright
one.”
“What the devil is this?” demanded Peebles, “what’s wrong with them
beggars.” And he pointed toward the boma which was now in sight, and
from which the askari were issuing at a run, jabbering excitedly as they
raced toward them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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