Chapter Chapter 12 · Tarzan Rescues the Moon

. Tarzan Rescues the Moon

The moon shone down out of a cloudless sky—a huge, swollen moon that

seemed so close to earth that one might wonder that she did not brush

the crooning tree tops. It was night, and Tarzan was abroad in the

jungle—Tarzan, the ape-man; mighty fighter, mighty hunter. Why he swung

through the dark shadows of the somber forest he could not have told

you. It was not that he was hungry—he had fed well this day, and in a

safe cache were the remains of his kill, ready against the coming of a

new appetite. Perhaps it was the very joy of living that urged him from

his arboreal couch to pit his muscles and his senses against the jungle

night, and then, too, Tarzan always was goaded by an intense desire to

know.

The jungle which is presided over by Kudu, the sun, is a very different

jungle from that of Goro, the moon. The diurnal jungle has its own

aspect—its own lights and shades, its own birds, its own blooms, its

own beasts; its noises are the noises of the day. The lights and shades

of the nocturnal jungle are as different as one might imagine the

lights and shades of another world to differ from those of our world;

its beasts, its blooms, and its birds are not those of the jungle of

Kudu, the sun.

Because of these differences Tarzan loved to investigate the jungle by

night. Not only was the life another life; but it was richer in numbers

and in romance; it was richer in dangers, too, and to Tarzan of the

Apes danger was the spice of life. And the noises of the jungle

night—the roar of the lion, the scream of the leopard, the hideous

laughter of Dango, the hyena, were music to the ears of the ape-man.

The soft padding of unseen feet, the rustling of leaves and grasses to

the passage of fierce beasts, the sheen of opalesque eyes flaming

through the dark, the million sounds which proclaimed the teeming life

that one might hear and scent, though seldom see, constituted the

appeal of the nocturnal jungle to Tarzan.

Tonight he had swung a wide circle—toward the east first and then

toward the south, and now he was rounding back again into the north.

His eyes, his ears and his keen nostrils were ever on the alert.

Mingled with the sounds he knew, there were strange sounds—weird sounds

which he never heard until after Kudu had sought his lair below the far

edge of the big water—sounds which belonged to Goro, the moon—and to

the mysterious period of Goro’s supremacy. These sounds often caused

Tarzan profound speculation. They baffled him because he thought that

he knew his jungle so well that there could be nothing within it

unfamiliar to him. Sometimes he thought that as colors and forms

appeared to differ by night from their familiar daylight aspects, so

sounds altered with the passage of Kudu and the coming of Goro, and

these thoughts roused within his brain a vague conjecture that perhaps

Goro and Kudu influenced these changes. And what more natural that

eventually he came to attribute to the sun and the moon personalities

as real as his own? The sun was a living creature and ruled the day.

The moon, endowed with brains and miraculous powers, ruled the night.

Thus functioned the untrained man-mind groping through the dark night

of ignorance for an explanation of the things he could not touch or

smell or hear and of the great, unknown powers of nature which he could

not see.

As Tarzan swung north again upon his wide circle the scent of the

Gomangani came to his nostrils, mixed with the acrid odor of wood

smoke. The ape-man moved quickly in the direction from which the scent

was borne down to him upon the gentle night wind. Presently the ruddy

sheen of a great fire filtered through the foliage to him ahead, and

when Tarzan came to a halt in the trees near it, he saw a party of half

a dozen black warriors huddled close to the blaze. It was evidently a

hunting party from the village of Mbonga, the chief, caught out in the

jungle after dark. In a rude circle about them they had constructed a

thorn boma which, with the aid of the fire, they apparently hoped would

discourage the advances of the larger carnivora.

That hope was not conviction was evidenced by the very palpable terror

in which they crouched, wide-eyed and trembling, for already Numa and

Sabor were moaning through the jungle toward them. There were other

creatures, too, in the shadows beyond the firelight. Tarzan could see

their yellow eyes flaming there. The blacks saw them and shivered. Then

one arose and grasping a burning branch from the fire hurled it at the

eyes, which immediately disappeared. The black sat down again. Tarzan

watched and saw that it was several minutes before the eyes began to

reappear in twos and fours.

Then came Numa, the lion, and Sabor, his mate. The other eyes scattered

to right and left before the menacing growls of the great cats, and

then the huge orbs of the man-eaters flamed alone out of the darkness.

Some of the blacks threw themselves upon their faces and moaned; but he

who before had hurled the burning branch now hurled another straight at

the faces of the hungry lions, and they, too, disappeared as had the

lesser lights before them. Tarzan was much interested. He saw a new

reason for the nightly fires maintained by the blacks—a reason in

addition to those connected with warmth and light and cooking. The

beasts of the jungle feared fire, and so fire was, in a measure, a

protection from them. Tarzan himself knew a certain awe of fire. Once

he had, in investigating an abandoned fire in the village of the

blacks, picked up a live coal. Since then he had maintained a

respectful distance from such fires as he had seen. One experience had

sufficed.

For a few minutes after the black hurled the firebrand no eyes

appeared, though Tarzan could hear the soft padding of feet all about

him. Then flashed once more the twin fire spots that marked the return

of the lord of the jungle and a moment later, upon a slightly lower

level, there appeared those of Sabor, his mate.

For some time they remained fixed and unwavering—a constellation of

fierce stars in the jungle night—then the male lion advanced slowly

toward the boma, where all but a single black still crouched in

trembling terror. When this lone guardian saw that Numa was again

approaching, he threw another firebrand, and, as before, Numa retreated

and with him Sabor, the lioness; but not so far, this time, nor for so

long. Almost instantly they turned and began circling the boma, their

eyes turning constantly toward the firelight, while low, throaty growls

evidenced their increasing displeasure. Beyond the lions glowed the

flaming eyes of the lesser satellites, until the black jungle was shot

all around the black men’s camp with little spots of fire.

Again and again the black warrior hurled his puny brands at the two big

cats; but Tarzan noticed that Numa paid little or no attention to them

after the first few retreats. The ape-man knew by Numa’s voice that the

lion was hungry and surmised that he had made up his mind to feed upon

a Gomangani; but would he dare a closer approach to the dreaded flames?

Even as the thought was passing in Tarzan’s mind, Numa stopped his

restless pacing and faced the boma. For a moment he stood motionless,

except for the quick, nervous upcurving of his tail, then he walked

deliberately forward, while Sabor moved restlessly to and fro where he

had left her. The black man called to his comrades that the lion was

coming, but they were too far gone in fear to do more than huddle

closer together and moan more loudly than before.

Seizing a blazing branch the man cast it straight into the face of the

lion. There was an angry roar, followed by a swift charge. With a

single bound the savage beast cleared the boma wall as, with almost

equal agility, the warrior cleared it upon the opposite side and,

chancing the dangers lurking in the darkness, bolted for the nearest

tree.

Numa was out of the boma almost as soon as he was inside it; but as he

went back over the low thorn wall, he took a screaming negro with him.

Dragging his victim along the ground he walked back toward Sabor, the

lioness, who joined him, and the two continued into the blackness,

their savage growls mingling with the piercing shrieks of the doomed

and terrified man.

At a little distance from the blaze the lions halted, there ensued a

short succession of unusually vicious growls and roars, during which

the cries and moans of the black man ceased—forever.

Presently Numa reappeared in the firelight. He made a second trip into

the boma and the former grisly tragedy was reenacted with another

howling victim.

Tarzan rose and stretched lazily. The entertainment was beginning to

bore him. He yawned and turned upon his way toward the clearing where

the tribe would be sleeping in the encircling trees.

Yet even when he had found his familiar crotch and curled himself for

slumber, he felt no desire to sleep. For a long time he lay awake

thinking and dreaming. He looked up into the heavens and watched the

moon and the stars. He wondered what they were and what power kept them

from falling. His was an inquisitive mind. Always he had been full of

questions concerning all that passed around him; but there never had

been one to answer his questions. In childhood he had wanted to KNOW,

and, denied almost all knowledge, he still, in manhood, was filled with

the great, unsatisfied curiosity of a child.

He was never quite content merely to perceive that things happened—he

desired to know WHY they happened. He wanted to know what made things

go. The secret of life interested him immensely. The miracle of death

he could not quite fathom. Upon innumerable occasions he had

investigated the internal mechanism of his kills, and once or twice he

had opened the chest cavity of victims in time to see the heart still

pumping.

He had learned from experience that a knife thrust through this organ

brought immediate death nine times out of ten, while he might stab an

antagonist innumerable times in other places without even disabling

him. And so he had come to think of the heart, or, as he called it,

“the red thing that breathes,” as the seat and origin of life.

The brain and its functionings he did not comprehend at all. That his

sense perceptions were transmitted to his brain and there translated,

classified, and labeled was something quite beyond him. He thought that

his fingers knew when they touched something, that his eyes knew when

they saw, his ears when they heard, his nose when it scented.

He considered his throat, epidermis, and the hairs of his head as the

three principal seats of emotion. When Kala had been slain a peculiar

choking sensation had possessed his throat; contact with Histah, the

snake, imparted an unpleasant sensation to the skin of his whole body;

while the approach of an enemy made the hairs on his scalp stand erect.

Imagine, if you can, a child filled with the wonders of nature,

bursting with queries and surrounded only by beasts of the jungle to

whom his questionings were as strange as Sanskrit would have been. If

he asked Gunto what made it rain, the big old ape would but gaze at him

in dumb astonishment for an instant and then return to his interesting

and edifying search for fleas; and when he questioned Mumga, who was

very old and should have been very wise, but wasn’t, as to the reason

for the closing of certain flowers after Kudu had deserted the sky, and

the opening of others during the night, he was surprised to discover

that Mumga had never noticed these interesting facts, though she could

tell to an inch just where the fattest grubworm should be hiding.

To Tarzan these things were wonders. They appealed to his intellect and

to his imagination. He saw the flowers close and open; he saw certain

blooms which turned their faces always toward the sun; he saw leaves

which moved when there was no breeze; he saw vines crawl like living

things up the boles and over the branches of great trees; and to Tarzan

of the Apes the flowers and the vines and the trees were living

creatures. He often talked to them, as he talked to Goro, the moon, and

Kudu, the sun, and always was he disappointed that they did not reply.

He asked them questions; but they could not answer, though he knew that

the whispering of the leaves was the language of the leaves—they talked

with one another.

The wind he attributed to the trees and grasses. He thought that they

swayed themselves to and fro, creating the wind. In no other way could

he account for this phenomenon. The rain he finally attributed to the

stars, the moon, and the sun; but his hypothesis was entirely unlovely

and unpoetical.

Tonight as Tarzan lay thinking, there sprang to his fertile imagination

an explanation of the stars and the moon. He became quite excited about

it. Taug was sleeping in a near-by crotch. Tarzan swung over beside him.

“Taug!” he cried. Instantly the great bull was awake and bristling,

sensing danger from the nocturnal summons. “Look, Taug!” exclaimed

Tarzan, pointing toward the stars. “See the eyes of Numa and Sabor, of

Sheeta and Dango. They wait around Goro to leap in upon him for their

kill. See the eyes and the nose and the mouth of Goro. And the light

that shines upon his face is the light of the great fire he has built

to frighten away Numa and Sabor and Dango and Sheeta.

“All about him are the eyes, Taug, you can see them! But they do not

come very close to the fire—there are few eyes close to Goro. They fear

the fire! It is the fire that saves Goro from Numa. Do you see them,

Taug? Some night Numa will be very hungry and very angry—then he will

leap over the thorn bushes which encircle Goro and we will have no more

light after Kudu seeks his lair—the night will be black with the

blackness that comes when Goro is lazy and sleeps late into the night,

or when he wanders through the skies by day, forgetting the jungle and

its people.”

Taug looked stupidly at the heavens and then at Tarzan. A meteor fell,

blazing a flaming way through the sky.

“Look!” cried Tarzan. “Goro has thrown a burning branch at Numa.”

Taug grumbled. “Numa is down below,” he said. “Numa does not hunt above

the trees.” But he looked curiously and a little fearfully at the

bright stars above him, as though he saw them for the first time, and

doubtless it was the first time that Taug ever had seen the stars,

though they had been in the sky above him every night of his life. To

Taug they were as the gorgeous jungle blooms—he could not eat them and

so he ignored them.

Taug fidgeted and was nervous. For a long time he lay sleepless,

watching the stars—the flaming eyes of the beasts of prey surrounding

Goro, the moon—Goro, by whose light the apes danced to the beating of

their earthen drums. If Goro should be eaten by Numa there could be no

more Dum-Dums. Taug was overwhelmed by the thought. He glanced at

Tarzan half fearfully. Why was his friend so different from the others

of the tribe? No one else whom Taug ever had known had had such queer

thoughts as Tarzan. The ape scratched his head and wondered, dimly, if

Tarzan was a safe companion, and then he recalled slowly, and by a

laborious mental process, that Tarzan had served him better than any

other of the apes, even the strong and wise bulls of the tribe.

Tarzan it was who had freed him from the blacks at the very time that

Taug had thought Tarzan wanted Teeka. It was Tarzan who had saved

Taug’s little balu from death. It was Tarzan who had conceived and

carried out the plan to pursue Teeka’s abductor and rescue the stolen

one. Tarzan had fought and bled in Taug’s service so many times that

Taug, although only a brutal ape, had had impressed upon his mind a

fierce loyalty which nothing now could swerve—his friendship for Tarzan

had become a habit, a tradition almost, which would endure while Taug

endured. He never showed any outward demonstration of affection—he

growled at Tarzan as he growled at the other bulls who came too close

while he was feeding—but he would have died for Tarzan. He knew it and

Tarzan knew it; but of such things apes do not speak—their vocabulary,

for the finer instincts, consisting more of actions than words. But now

Taug was worried, and he fell asleep again still thinking of the

strange words of his fellow.

The following day he thought of them again, and without any intention

of disloyalty he mentioned to Gunto what Tarzan had suggested about the

eyes surrounding Goro, and the possibility that sooner or later Numa

would charge the moon and devour him. To the apes all large things in

nature are male, and so Goro, being the largest creature in the heavens

by night, was, to them, a bull.

Gunto bit a sliver from a horny finger and recalled the fact that

Tarzan had once said that the trees talked to one another, and Gozan

recounted having seen the ape-man dancing alone in the moonlight with

Sheeta, the panther. They did not know that Tarzan had roped the savage

beast and tied him to a tree before he came to earth and leaped about

before the rearing cat, to tantalize him.

Others told of seeing Tarzan ride upon the back of Tantor, the

elephant; of his bringing the black boy, Tibo, to the tribe, and of

mysterious things with which he communed in the strange lair by the

sea. They had never understood his books, and after he had shown them

to one or two of the tribe and discovered that even the pictures

carried no impression to their brains, he had desisted.

“Tarzan is not an ape,” said Gunto. “He will bring Numa to eat us, as

he is bringing him to eat Goro. We should kill him.”

Immediately Taug bristled. Kill Tarzan! “First you will kill Taug,” he

said, and lumbered away to search for food.

But others joined the plotters. They thought of many things which

Tarzan had done—things which apes did not do and could not understand.

Again Gunto voiced the opinion that the Tarmangani, the white ape,

should be slain, and the others, filled with terror about the stories

they had heard, and thinking Tarzan was planning to slay Goro, greeted

the proposal with growls of accord.

Among them was Teeka, listening with all her ears; but her voice was

not raised in furtherance of the plan. Instead she bristled, showing

her fangs, and afterward she went away in search of Tarzan; but she

could not find him, as he was roaming far afield in search of meat. She

found Taug, though, and told him what the others were planning, and the

great bull stamped upon the ground and roared. His blood-shot eyes

blazed with wrath, his upper lip curled up to expose his fighting

fangs, and the hair upon his spine stood erect, and then a rodent

scurried across the open and Taug sprang to seize it. In an instant he

seemed to have forgotten his rage against the enemies of his friend;

but such is the mind of an ape.

Several miles away Tarzan of the Apes lolled upon the broad head of

Tantor, the elephant. He scratched beneath the great ears with the

point of a sharp stick, and he talked to the huge pachyderm of

everything which filled his black-thatched head. Little, or nothing, of

what he said did Tantor understand; but Tantor is a good listener.

Swaying from side to side he stood there enjoying the companionship of

his friend, the friend he loved, and absorbing the delicious sensations

of the scratching.

Numa, the lion, caught the scent of man, and warily stalked it until he

came within sight of his prey upon the head of the mighty tusker; then

he turned, growling and muttering, away in search of more propitious

hunting grounds.

The elephant caught the scent of the lion, borne to him by an eddying

breeze, and lifting his trunk trumpeted loudly. Tarzan stretched back

luxuriously, lying supine at full length along the rough hide. Flies

swarmed about his face; but with a leafy branch torn from a tree he

lazily brushed them away.

“Tantor,” he said, “it is good to be alive. It is good to lie in the

cool shadows. It is good to look upon the green trees and the bright

colors of the flowers—upon everything which Bulamutumumo has put here

for us. He is very good to us, Tantor; He has given you tender leaves

and bark, and rich grasses to eat; to me He has given Bara and Horta

and Pisah, the fruits and the nuts and the roots. He provides for each

the food that each likes best. All that He asks is that we be strong

enough or cunning enough to go forth and take it. Yes, Tantor, it is

good to live. I should hate to die.”

Tantor made a little sound in his throat and curled his trunk upward

that he might caress the ape-man’s cheek with the finger at its tip.

“Tantor,” said Tarzan presently, “turn and feed in the direction of the

tribe of Kerchak, the great ape, that Tarzan may ride home upon your

head without walking.”

The tusker turned and moved slowly off along a broad, tree-arched

trail, pausing occasionally to pluck a tender branch, or strip the

edible bark from an adjacent tree. Tarzan sprawled face downward upon

the beast’s head and back, his legs hanging on either side, his head

supported by his open palms, his elbows resting on the broad cranium.

And thus they made their leisurely way toward the gathering place of

the tribe.

Just before they arrived at the clearing from the north there reached

it from the south another figure—that of a well-knit black warrior, who

stepped cautiously through the jungle, every sense upon the alert

against the many dangers which might lurk anywhere along the way. Yet

he passed beneath the southernmost sentry that was posted in a great

tree commanding the trail from the south. The ape permitted the

Gomangani to pass unmolested, for he saw that he was alone; but the

moment that the warrior had entered the clearing a loud “Kreeg-ah!”

rang out from behind him, immediately followed by a chorus of replies

from different directions, as the great bulls crashed through the trees

in answer to the summons of their fellow.

The black man halted at the first cry and looked about him. He could

see nothing, but he knew the voice of the hairy tree men whom he and

his kind feared, not alone because of the strength and ferocity of the

savage beings, but as well through a superstitious terror engendered by

the manlike appearance of the apes.

But Bulabantu was no coward. He heard the apes all about him; he knew

that escape was probably impossible, so he stood his ground, his spear

ready in his hand and a war cry trembling on his lips. He would sell

his life dearly, would Bulabantu, under-chief of the village of Mbonga,

the chief.

Tarzan and Tantor were but a short distance away when the first cry of

the sentry rang out through the quiet jungle. Like a flash the ape-man

leaped from the elephant’s back to a near-by tree and was swinging

rapidly in the direction of the clearing before the echoes of the first

“Kreeg-ah” had died away. When he arrived he saw a dozen bulls circling

a single Gomangani. With a blood-curdling scream Tarzan sprang to the

attack. He hated the blacks even more than did the apes, and here was

an opportunity for a kill in the open. What had the Gomangani done? Had

he slain one of the tribe?

Tarzan asked the nearest ape. No, the Gomangani had harmed none. Gozan,

being on watch, had seen him coming through the forest and had warned

the tribe—that was all. The ape-man pushed through the circle of bulls,

none of which as yet had worked himself into sufficient frenzy for a

charge, and came where he had a full and close view of the black. He

recognized the man instantly. Only the night before he had seen him

facing the eyes in the dark, while his fellows groveled in the dirt at

his feet, too terrified even to defend themselves. Here was a brave

man, and Tarzan had deep admiration for bravery. Even his hatred of the

blacks was not so strong a passion as his love of courage. He would

have joyed in battling with a black warrior at almost any time; but

this one he did not wish to kill—he felt, vaguely, that the man had

earned his life by his brave defense of it on the preceding night, nor

did he fancy the odds that were pitted against the lone warrior.

He turned to the apes. “Go back to your feeding,” he said, “and let

this Gomangani go his way in peace. He has not harmed us, and last

night I saw him fighting Numa and Sabor with fire, alone in the jungle.

He is brave. Why should we kill one who is brave and who has not

attacked us? Let him go.”

The apes growled. They were displeased. “Kill the Gomangani!” cried

one.

“Yes,” roared another, “kill the Gomangani and the Tarmangani as well.”

“Kill the white ape!” screamed Gozan, “he is no ape at all; but a

Gomangani with his skin off.”

“Kill Tarzan!” bellowed Gunto. “Kill! Kill! Kill!”

The bulls were now indeed working themselves into the frenzy of

slaughter; but against Tarzan rather than the black man. A shaggy form

charged through them, hurling those it came in contact with to one side

as a strong man might scatter children. It was Taug—great, savage Taug.

“Who says ‘kill Tarzan’?” he demanded. “Who kills Tarzan must kill

Taug, too. Who can kill Taug? Taug will tear your insides from you and

feed them to Dango.”

“We can kill you all,” replied Gunto. “There are many of us and few of

you,” and he was right. Tarzan knew that he was right. Taug knew it;

but neither would admit such a possibility. It is not the way of bull

apes.

“I am Tarzan,” cried the ape-man. “I am Tarzan. Mighty hunter; mighty

fighter. In all the jungle none so great as Tarzan.”

Then, one by one, the opposing bulls recounted their virtues and their

prowess. And all the time the combatants came closer and closer to one

another. Thus do the bulls work themselves to the proper pitch before

engaging in battle.

Gunto came, stiff-legged, close to Tarzan and sniffed at him, with

bared fangs. Tarzan rumbled forth a low, menacing growl. They might

repeat these tactics a dozen times; but sooner or later one bull would

close with another and then the whole hideous pack would be tearing and

rending at their prey.

Bulabantu, the black man, had stood wide-eyed in wonder from the moment

he had seen Tarzan approaching through the apes. He had heard much of

this devil-god who ran with the hairy tree people; but never before had

he seen him in full daylight. He knew him well enough from the

description of those who had seen him and from the glimpses he had had

of the marauder upon several occasions when the ape-man had entered the

village of Mbonga, the chief, by night, in the perpetration of one of

his numerous ghastly jokes.

Bulabantu could not, of course, understand anything which passed

between Tarzan and the apes; but he saw that the ape-man and one of the

larger bulls were in argument with the others. He saw that these two

were standing with their back toward him and between him and the

balance of the tribe, and he guessed, though it seemed improbable, that

they might be defending him. He knew that Tarzan had once spared the

life of Mbonga, the chief, and that he had succored Tibo, and Tibo’s

mother, Momaya. So it was not impossible that he would help Bulabantu;

but how he could accomplish it Bulabantu could not guess; nor as a

matter of fact could Tarzan, for the odds against him were too great.

Gunto and the others were slowly forcing Tarzan and Taug back toward

Bulabantu. The ape-man thought of his words with Tantor just a short

time before: “Yes, Tantor, it is good to live. I should hate to die.”

And now he knew that he was about to die, for the temper of the great

bulls was mounting rapidly against him. Always had many of them hated

him, and all were suspicious of him. They knew he was different. Tarzan

knew it too; but he was glad that he was—he was a MAN; that he had

learned from his picture-books, and he was very proud of the

distinction. Presently, though, he would be a dead man.

Gunto was preparing to charge. Tarzan knew the signs. He knew that the

balance of the bulls would charge with Gunto. Then it would soon be

over. Something moved among the verdure at the opposite side of the

clearing. Tarzan saw it just as Gunto, with the terrifying cry of a

challenging ape, sprang forward. Tarzan voiced a peculiar call and then

crouched to meet the assault. Taug crouched, too, and Bulabantu,

assured now that these two were fighting upon his side, couched his

spear and sprang between them to receive the first charge of the enemy.

Simultaneously a huge bulk broke into the clearing from the jungle

behind the charging bulls. The trumpeting of a mad tusker rose shrill

above the cries of the anthropoids, as Tantor, the elephant, dashed

swiftly across the clearing to the aid of his friend.

Gunto never closed upon the ape-man, nor did a fang enter flesh upon

either side. The terrific reverberation of Tantor’s challenge sent the

bulls scurrying to the trees, jabbering and scolding. Taug raced off

with them. Only Tarzan and Bulabantu remained. The latter stood his

ground because he saw that the devil-god did not run, and because the

black had the courage to face a certain and horrible death beside one

who had quite evidently dared death for him.

But it was a surprised Gomangani who saw the mighty elephant come to a

sudden halt in front of the ape-man and caress him with his long,

sinuous trunk.

Tarzan turned toward the black man. “Go!” he said in the language of

the apes, and pointed in the direction of the village of Mbonga.

Bulabantu understood the gesture, if not the word, nor did he lose time

in obeying. Tarzan stood watching him until he had disappeared. He knew

that the apes would not follow. Then he said to the elephant: “Pick me

up!” and the tusker swung him lightly to his head.

“Tarzan goes to his lair by the big water,” shouted the ape-man to the

apes in the trees. “All of you are more foolish than Manu, except Taug

and Teeka. Taug and Teeka may come to see Tarzan; but the others must

keep away. Tarzan is done with the tribe of Kerchak.”

He prodded Tantor with a calloused toe and the big beast swung off

across the clearing, the apes watching them until they were swallowed

up by the jungle.

Before the night fell Taug killed Gunto, picking a quarrel with him

over his attack upon Tarzan.

For a moon the tribe saw nothing of Tarzan of the Apes. Many of them

probably never gave him a thought; but there were those who missed him

more than Tarzan imagined. Taug and Teeka often wished that he was

back, and Taug determined a dozen times to go and visit Tarzan in his

seaside lair; but first one thing and then another interfered.

One night when Taug lay sleepless looking up at the starry heavens he

recalled the strange things that Tarzan once had suggested to him—that

the bright spots were the eyes of the meat-eaters waiting in the dark

of the jungle sky to leap upon Goro, the moon, and devour him. The more

he thought about this matter the more perturbed he became.

And then a strange thing happened. Even as Taug looked at Goro, he saw

a portion of one edge disappear, precisely as though something was

gnawing upon it. Larger and larger became the hole in the side of Goro.

With a scream, Taug leaped to his feet. His frenzied “Kreeg-ahs!”

brought the terrified tribe screaming and chattering toward him.

“Look!” cried Taug, pointing at the moon. “Look! It is as Tarzan said.

Numa has sprung through the fires and is devouring Goro. You called

Tarzan names and drove him from the tribe; now see how wise he was. Let

one of you who hated Tarzan go to Goro’s aid. See the eyes in the dark

jungle all about Goro. He is in danger and none can help him—none

except Tarzan. Soon Goro will be devoured by Numa and we shall have no

more light after Kudu seeks his lair. How shall we dance the Dum-Dum

without the light of Goro?”

The apes trembled and whimpered. Any manifestation of the powers of

nature always filled them with terror, for they could not understand.

“Go and bring Tarzan,” cried one, and then they all took up the cry of

“Tarzan!” “Bring Tarzan!” “He will save Goro.” But who was to travel

the dark jungle by night to fetch him?

“I will go,” volunteered Taug, and an instant later he was off through

the Stygian gloom toward the little land-locked harbor by the sea.

And as the tribe waited they watched the slow devouring of the moon.

Already Numa had eaten out a great semicircular piece. At that rate

Goro would be entirely gone before Kudu came again. The apes trembled

at the thought of perpetual darkness by night. They could not sleep.

Restlessly they moved here and there among the branches of trees,

watching Numa of the skies at his deadly feast, and listening for the

coming of Taug with Tarzan.

Goro was nearly gone when the apes heard the sounds of the approach

through the trees of the two they awaited, and presently Tarzan,

followed by Taug, swung into a near-by tree.

The ape-man wasted no time in idle words. In his hand was his long bow

and at his back hung a quiver full of arrows, poisoned arrows that he

had stolen from the village of the blacks; just as he had stolen the

bow. Up into a great tree he clambered, higher and higher until he

stood swaying upon a small limb which bent low beneath his weight. Here

he had a clear and unobstructed view of the heavens. He saw Goro and

the inroads which the hungry Numa had made into his shining surface.

Raising his face to the moon, Tarzan shrilled forth his hideous

challenge. Faintly and from afar came the roar of an answering lion.

The apes shivered. Numa of the skies had answered Tarzan.

Then the ape-man fitted an arrow to his bow, and drawing the shaft far

back, aimed its point at the heart of Numa where he lay in the heavens

devouring Goro. There was a loud twang as the released bolt shot into

the dark heavens. Again and again did Tarzan of the Apes launch his

arrows at Numa, and all the while the apes of the tribe of Kerchak

huddled together in terror.

At last came a cry from Taug. “Look! Look!” he screamed. “Numa is

killed. Tarzan has killed Numa. See! Goro is emerging from the belly of

Numa,” and, sure enough, the moon was gradually emerging from whatever

had devoured her, whether it was Numa, the lion, or the shadow of the

earth; but were you to try to convince an ape of the tribe of Kerchak

that it was aught but Numa who so nearly devoured Goro that night, or

that another than Tarzan preserved the brilliant god of their savage

and mysterious rites from a frightful death, you would have

difficulty—and a fight on your hands.

And so Tarzan of the Apes came back to the tribe of Kerchak, and in his

coming he took a long stride toward the kingship, which he ultimately

won, for now the apes looked up to him as a superior being.

In all the tribe there was but one who was at all skeptical about the

plausibility of Tarzan’s remarkable rescue of Goro, and that one,

strange as it may seem, was Tarzan of the Apes.