Lashing and writhing, the nether portion, headless, flopped aside while the ape-man, still fighting with what remained, exerting his superhuman strength to its ultimate utmost, slowly forced the coils from about his body and cast the dying Histah from him. Then, without a glance at Slimbol, he turned to Bolgani.
'You are hurt to death?' he asked in the language of the great apes.
'No,' replied the gorilla. 'I am Bolgani! I kill, Tarmangani!'
'I am Tarzan of the Apes,' said the ape-man. 'I saved you from Histah.'
'You did not come to kill Bolgani?' inquired the gorilla.
'No. Let us be friends.'
Bolgani frowned in an effort to concentrate upon this remarkable problem. Presently he spoke. 'We will be friends,' he said. 'The Tarmangani behind you will kill us both with his thunder stick. Let us kill him first.' Painfully he staggered to his feet.
'No,' remonstrated Tarzan. 'I will send the Tarmangani away.'
'You? He will not go.'
'I am Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle,' replied the ape-man. 'The word of Tarzan is law in the jungle.'
Stimbol, who bad been watching, was under the impression that the man and the beast were growling at one another and that a new duel impended. Had he guessed the truth and suspicioned that they considered him a common enemy he would have felt far less at ease. Now, his rifle regained, he started toward Tarzan just as the latter turned to address him.
'Stand to one side, young fellow,' said Stimbol, 'while I finish that gorilla. After the experience you just had with the snake, I doubt if you want that fellow to jump you, too.' The American was none too sure of what the attitude of the white giant might be, for all too fresh in his mind was the startling and disconcerting manner of the wild man's introduction; but he felt safe because he held a rifle, while the other was unarmed, and he guessed that the giant might be only too glad to be saved from the attentions of the gorilla, which, from Stimbol's imagined knowledge of such beasts, appeared to him to be quite evidently threatening.
Tarzan halted directly between Bolgani and the hunter and eyed the latter appraisingly for a moment. 'Lower your rifle,' he said, presently. 'You are not going to shoot the gorilla.'
'The hell I'm not!' ejaculated Stimbol. 'What do you suppose I've been chasing him through the jungle for?'
'Under a misapprehension,' replied Tarzan.
'What misapprehension?' demanded Stimbol.
'That you were going to shoot him. You are not.'
'Say, young man, do you know who I am?' demanded Stimbol.
'I am not interested,' replied Tarzan coldly.
'Well you'd better be. I'm Wilbur Stimbol of Stimbol and Company, brokers, New York !' That was a name to conjure with—in New York . Even in Paris and London it had opened many a door, bent many a knee. Seldom had it failed the purpose of this purse-arrogant man.
'What are you doing in my country?' demanded the ape-man, ignoring Stimbol's egotistical statement of his identity.
'Your country? Who the hell are you?'
Tarzan turned toward the two blacks who had been standing a little in the rear of Stimbol and to one side. 'I am Tarzan of the Apes,' he said to them in their own dialect. 'What is this man doing in my country? How many are there in his party—how many white men?'
'Big Bwana,' replied one of the men with sincere deference, 'we knew that you were Tarzan of the Apes when we saw you swing from the trees and slay the great snake. There is no other in all the jungle who could do that. This white man is a bad master. There is one other white man with him. The other is kind. They came to hunt Simba the lion and other big game. They have had no luck. Tomorrow they turn back.'
'Where is their camp?' demanded Tarzan.
The black who had spoken pointed. 'It is not far,' he said.
The ape-man turned to Stimbol. 'Go back to your camp,' he said. 'I shall come there later this evening and talk with you and your companion. In the meantime hunt no more except for food in Tarzan's country.'
There was something in the voice and manner of the stranger that had finally gone through Stimbol's thick sensibilities and impressed him with a species of awe—a thing he had scarcely ever experienced in the past except in the presence of wealth that was grossly superior to his own. He did not reply. He just stood and watched the bronzed giant turn to the gorilla. He heard them growl at one another for a moment and then, to his vast surprise, he saw them move off through the jungle together, shoulder to shoulder. As the foliage closed about them he removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a silken handkerchief as he stood staring at the green branches that had parted to receive this strangely assorted pair.
Finally he turned to his men with an oath. 'A whole day wasted!' he complained. 'Who is this fellow? You seemed to know him.'
'He is Tarzan,' replied one of the blacks.
'Tarzan? Never heard of him,' snapped Stimbol.
'All who know the jungle, know Tarzan.'
'Humph!' sneered Stimbol. 'No lousy wild man is going to tell Wilbur Stimbol where he can hunt and where he can't.'
'Master,' said the black who had first spoken, 'the word of Tarzan is the law of the jungle. Do not offend him.'
'I'm not paying you damn fools for advice,' snapped Stimbol. 'If I say hunt, we hunt, and don't you forget it.' But on their return to camp they saw no game, or at least Stimbol saw none. What the blacks saw was their own affair.
Chapter Five
The Tarmangani
DURING Stimbol's absence from camp Blake had been occupied in dividing the food and equipment into two equal parts which were arranged for Stimbol's inspection and approval; but the division of the porters and askari he had left until the other's return, and was writing in his diary when the hunting party entered the camp.
He could see at a glance that Stimbol was in bad humor, but as that was the older man's usual state of temper it caused Blake no particular anxiety, but rather gave him cause for added relief that on the morrow he would be rid of his ill-natured companion for good.
Blake was more concerned, however, by the sullen demeanor of the askari who had accompanied Stimbol for it meant to the younger man that his companion had found some new occasion for bullying, abusing or insulting them, and the difficulty of dividing the safari thus increased. Blake had felt from the moment that he had definitely reached the decision to separate from Stimbol that one of the greatest obstacles they would have to overcome to carry out the plan would be to find sufficient men willing to submit themselves to Stimbol's ideas of discipline, properly to transport his luggage and provisions and guard them and him.
As Stimbol passed and saw the two piles of equipment the frown upon his face deepened. 'I see you've got the stuff laid out,' he remarked, as he halted before Blake.
'Yes, I wanted you to look it over and see that it is satisfactorily divided before I have it packed.'
'I don't want to be bothered with it,' replied the other. 'I know you wouldn't take any advantage of me on the division.'
'Thanks,' replied Blake.
'How about the porters?'
'That's not going to be so easy. You know you haven't treated them very well and there will not be many of them anxious to return with you.'
'There's where you're dead wrong, Blake. The trouble with you is that you don't know anything about natives. You're too easy with 'em. They haven't any respect for you, and the man they don't respect they don't like. They know that a fellow who beats 'em is their master, and they know that a master is going to look after them.
