Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“My poor head,” he cried, pressing both palms to his temples.
“The blow was upon your _head_, Bwana,” said Usula, “and your faithful
Waziri thought that it was the _heart_ of their master that knew no
fear.”
Esteban made no reply, and in silence they resumed their march. In
silence they continued until they made camp before dark upon the bank of
the river just above a waterfall. During the afternoon Esteban had
evolved a plan of escape from his dilemma, and no sooner had he made
camp than he ordered the Waziri to bury the treasure.
“We shall leave it here,” he said, “and tomorrow we shall set forth in
search of the thieves, for I have decided to punish them. They must be
taught that they may not come into the jungle of Tarzan with impunity.
It was only the injury to my head that prevented me from slaying them
immediately I discovered their perfidy.”
This attitude pleased the Waziri better. They commenced to see a ray of
hope. Once again was Tarzan of the Apes becoming Tarzan. And so it was
that with lighter hearts and a new cheerfulness they set forth the next
morning in search of the camp of the Englishmen, and by shrewd guessing
on Usula’s part they cut across the jungle to intercept the probable
line of march of the Europeans to such advantage that they came upon
them just as they were making camp that night. Long before they reached
them they smelled the smoke of their fires and heard the songs and
chatter of the west coast carriers.
Then it was that Esteban gathered the Waziri about him. “My children,”
he said, addressing Usula in English, “these strangers have come here to
wrong Tarzan. To Tarzan, then, belongs the vengeance. Go, therefore, and
leave me to punish my enemies alone and in my own way. Return home,
leave the gold where it is, for it will be a long time before I shall
need it.”
The Waziri were disappointed, for this new plan did not at all accord
with their desires, which contemplated a cheerful massacre of the west
coast blacks. But as yet the man before them was Tarzan, their big
Bwana, to whom they had never failed in implicit obedience. For a few
moments following Esteban’s declaration of his intention, they stood in
silence shifting uneasily, and then at last they commenced to speak to
one another in Waziri. What they said the Spaniard did not know, but
evidently they were urging something upon Usula, who presently turned
toward him.
“Oh, Bwana,” cried the black. “How can we return home to the Lady Jane
and tell her that we left you injured and alone to face the rifles of
the white men and their askari? Do not ask us to do it, Bwana. If you
were yourself we should not fear for your safety, but since the injury
to your head you have not been the same, and we fear to leave you alone
in the jungle. Let us, then, your faithful Waziri, punish these people,
after which we will take you home in safety, where you may be cured of
the evils that have fallen upon you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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