The balance of the afternoon passed, the two white men keeping to their respective tents; the blacks gathered in groups, whispering. Blake and Stimbol no longer messed together, but after the evening meal each appeared with his pipe to await the report of the head men. After half an hour Blake sent his boy to summon them and presently they came and stood before the young man.
'Well, have the men decided who will accompany Mr. Stimbol?' he asked.
'No one will accompany the old bwana,' replied their spokesman. 'All will go with the young bwana.'
'But Mr. Stimbol will pay them well,' Blake reminded, 'and half of you must go with him.'
The black shook his head. 'He could not make the pay big enough,' he said. 'No boy will go with him.'
'You agreed to come out with us and return with us,' said Blake. 'You must fulfill your agreement.'
'We agreed to come out with both of you and return with both of you. There was nothing said about returning separately. We will live up to our agreement and the old bwana may return in safety with the young bwana.' There was finality in the tone of the spokesman.
Blake thought for a moment before replying. 'You may go,' he said. 'I will talk with you again in the morning.'
The blacks had departed but a moment when the figure of a man appeared suddenly out of the darkness into the light of the camp fire.
'Who the—oh, it's you is it?' exclaimed Stimbol. 'Here's the wild man, Blake.'
The young American turned and surveyed the figure of the bronze giant who was standing just within the circle of the firelight. He noted the clean cut features, the quiet dignity, the majestic mien and smiled inwardly at recollection of Stimbol's description of this god-like creature—half-wit!
'So you are Tarzan of the Apes?' he said.
Tarzan inclined his head. 'And you?' he asked.
'I am Jim Blake of New York ,' replied the American.
'Hunting of course?'
'With a camera.'
'Your companion was using a rifle,' Tarzan reminded him.
'I am not responsible for his acts. I cannot control them,' replied Blake.
'Nor anyone else,' snapped Stimbol.
Tarzan permitted his gaze to move to Stimbol for an instant, but ignored his boast.
'I overheard the conversation between you and the head men,' he said, addressing Blake. 'Some of your blacks had already told me something about your companion, and twice today I have had an opportunity to form an estimate of my own from personal observation, so I assume that you are separating because you cannot agree. Am I right?'
'Yes,' acknowledged Blake.
'And after you separate—what are your plans?'
'I intend to push in a little farther west and then swing—' commenced Stimbol.
'I was speaking to Blake,' interrupted Tarzan; 'my plans concerning you are already made.'
'Well, who the—'
'Silence!' admonished the ape-man. 'Go ahead, Blake!'
'We have not had much luck so far,' replied Blake, 'principally because we never can agree on methods. The result is that I have scarcely a single decent wild animal study. I had planned to go north a way in search of lion pictures. I dislike going back without anything to show for the time and money I have put into the expedition, but now that the men have refused to accompany us separately there is nothing for it but to return to the coast by the shortest route.'
'You two don't seem to be taking me into consideration at all,' grumbled Stimbol. 'I've got as much money and time in this trip as Blake. You forget that I'm here to hunt, and what's more I'm going to hunt and I'm not going straight back to the coast by a damned sight, monkey-man or no monkey-man.'
Again Tarzan ignored Stimbol. 'Get ready to move out about an hour after sunrise,' he said to Blake. 'There will be no trouble about dividing the safari. I shall be here to attend to that and give you your final instructions,' and as he spoke he turned and disappeared in the darkness.
Chapter Six
Ara the Lightning
BEFORE dawn the camp was astir and by the appointed hour the packs were made and all was in readiness. The porters loitered, awaiting the word that would start the safari upon its eastward journey toward the coast. Blake and Stimbol smoked in silence. The foliage of a nearby tree moved to the swaying of a branch and Tarzan of the Apes dropped lightly into the camp. Exclamations of surprise broke from the lips of the Negroes—surprise clearly tinged with terror. The ape-man turned toward them and addressed them in their own dialect.
'I am Tarzan of the Apes,' he said, 'Lord of the Jungle. You have brought white men into my country to kill my people. I am displeased. Those of you who wish to live to return to your villages and your families will listen well and do as Tarzan commands.
'You,' he pointed at the chief head man, 'shall accompany the younger white man whom I will permit to make pictures in my country where and when he will. Select half the men of the safari to accompany the young bwana.'
'And you,' he addressed another head man, 'take those men that remain and escort the older bwana to railhead in the most direct route and without delay. He is not permitted to hunt and there will be no killing except for food or self-defense. Do not fail me. Remember always that Tarzan watches and Tarzan never forgets.'
He turned then to the white men. 'Blake,' he said, 'the arrangements are made. You may leave when you please, with your own safari, and go where you please. The question of hunting is left to your own discretion—you are the guest of Tarzan.'
'And you,' he addressed Stimbol, 'will be taken directly out of the country by the shortest route. You will be permitted to carry firearms for use in self-defense. If you abuse this permission they will be taken away from you. Do not hunt, even for food—your head man will attend to that.'
'Now just hold your horses,' blustered Stimbol. 'If you think I'm going to put up with any such high-handed interference with my rights as an American citizen you're very much mistaken. Why I could buy and sell you and your damned jungle forty times and not know that I'd spent a cent. For God's sake, Blake, tell this poor fool who I am before he gets himself into a lot of trouble.'
Tarzan turned to the head man he had selected for Stimbol. 'You may up-load and march,' he said. 'If this white man does not follow you, leave him behind. Take good care of him if he obeys me and deliver him safely at railhead. Obey his orders if they do not conflict with those that I have given you. Go!'
A moment later Stimbol's safari was preparing to depart and, at Tarzan's request, Blake's too was moving out of camp. Stimbol swore and threatened, but his men, sullenly ignoring him, filed off into the jungle toward the east. Tarzan had departed, swinging into the trees and disappearing among the foliage, and at last Stimbol stood alone in the deserted camp.
Thwarted, humiliated, almost frothing with rage he ran after his men, screaming commands and threats that were ignored. Later in the day, sullen and silent, he marched near the head of the long file of porters and askari, convinced at last that the power of the ape-man was greater than his; but in his heart burned resentment and in his mind rioted plans for vengeance—plans that he knew were futile.
Tarzan, wishing to assure himself that his instructions were being carried out, had swung far ahead and was waiting in the crotch of a tree that overhung the trail along which Stimbol must pass. In the distance he could hear the sounds that arose from the marching safari. Along the trail from the opposite direction something was approaching. The ape-man could not see it but he knew what it was. Above the tree tops black clouds rolled low, but no air stirred in the jungle.
Along the trail came a great, shaggy, black man-thing. Tarzan of the Apes hailed it as it came in sight of his arboreal perch.
'Bolgani!' he called in low tones.
