CHAPTER XIX.
The Last of the “Kincaid”
Shortly after the break of day Tarzan was on deck noting the condition
of the weather. The wind had abated. The sky was cloudless. Every
condition seemed ideal for the commencement of the return voyage to
Jungle Island, where the beasts were to be left. And then—home!
The ape-man aroused the mate and gave instructions that the Kincaid
sail at the earliest possible moment. The remaining members of the
crew, safe in Lord Greystoke’s assurance that they would not be
prosecuted for their share in the villainies of the two Russians,
hastened with cheerful alacrity to their several duties.
The beasts, liberated from the confinement of the hold, wandered about
the deck, not a little to the discomfiture of the crew in whose minds
there remained a still vivid picture of the savagery of the beasts in
conflict with those who had gone to their deaths beneath the fangs and
talons which even now seemed itching for the soft flesh of further
prey.
Beneath the watchful eyes of Tarzan and Mugambi, however, Sheeta and
the apes of Akut curbed their desires, so that the men worked about the
deck amongst them in far greater security than they imagined.
At last the Kincaid slipped down the Ugambi and ran out upon the
shimmering waters of the Atlantic. Tarzan and Jane Clayton watched the
verdure-clad shore-line receding in the ship’s wake, and for once the
ape-man left his native soil without one single pang of regret.
No ship that sailed the seven seas could have borne him away from
Africa to resume his search for his lost boy with half the speed that
the Englishman would have desired, and the slow-moving Kincaid seemed
scarce to move at all to the impatient mind of the bereaved father.
Yet the vessel made progress even when she seemed to be standing still,
and presently the low hills of Jungle Island became distinctly visible
upon the western horizon ahead.
In the cabin of Alexander Paulvitch the thing within the black box
ticked, ticked, ticked, with apparently unending monotony; but yet,
second by second, a little arm which protruded from the periphery of
one of its wheels came nearer and nearer to another little arm which
projected from the hand which Paulvitch had set at a certain point upon
the dial beside the clockwork. When those two arms touched one another
the ticking of the mechanism would cease—for ever.
Jane and Tarzan stood upon the bridge looking out toward Jungle Island.
The men were forward, also watching the land grow upward out of the
ocean. The beasts had sought the shade of the galley, where they were
curled up in sleep. All was quiet and peace upon the ship, and upon the
waters.
Suddenly, without warning, the cabin roof shot up into the air, a cloud
of dense smoke puffed far above the Kincaid, there was a terrific
explosion which shook the vessel from stem to stern.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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