such times as the valley was hidden from them so were they hidden from the watchers on the lake.
A third of the way down the escarpment von Harben came to the verge of a narrow gorge, the bottom of which was densely banked with green, the foliage of trees growing luxuriantly, pointing unquestionably to the presence of water in abundance. Leading the way, von Harben descended into the gorge, at the bottom of which he found a spring from which a little stream trickled downward. Here they quenched their thirst and rested. Then, following the stream down-ward, they discovered no obstacles that might not be easily surmounted.
For a long time, hemmed in by the walls of the narrow gorge and their view further circumscribed by the forest-like growth along the banks of the stream, they had no sight of the lake or the canyon bottom, but, finally, when the gorge debouched upon the lower slopes von Harben halted in admiration of the landscape spread out before him. Directly below, another stream entered that along which they had descended, forming a little river that dropped steeply to what appeared to be vivid green meadow land through which it wound tortuously to the great swamp that extended out across the valley for perhaps ten miles.
So choked was the lake with some feathery-tipped aquatic plant that von Harben could only guess as to its extent, since the green of the water plant and the green of the surrounding meadows blended into one another, but here and there he saw signs of open water that appeared like winding lanes or passages leading in all directions throughout the marsh.
As von Harben and Gabula stood looking out across this (to them) new and mysterious world, the warriors in the dugout watched them attentively. The strangers were still so far away that the men were unable to identify them, but their leader assured them that these two were no demons.
'How do you know that they are not demons?' demanded one of these fellows.
'I can see that they are men,' replied the other.
'Demons are very wise and very powerful,' insisted the doubter. 'They may take any form they choose. They might come as birds or animals or men.'
'They are not fools,' snapped the leader. 'If a demon wished to descend the great wall he would not choose the hardest way. He would take the form of a bird and fly down.'
The other scratched his head in perplexity, for he realized that here was an argument that would be difficult to controvert. For want of anything better to say, he suggested that they go at once and report the matter to their masters.
'No,' said the leader. 'We shall remain here until they come closer. It will be better for us if we can take them with us and show them to our masters.'
The first few steps that von Harben took onto the grassy meadow land revealed the fact that it was a dangerous swamp from which only with the greatest difficulty were they able to extricate themselves.
Floundering back to solid ground, von Harben reconnoitered in search of some other avenue to more solid ground on the floor of the canyon, but he found that upon both sides of the river the swamp extended to the foot of the lowest terrace of the cliff, and low as these were in comparison to their lofty fellows towering far above them, they were still impassable barriers.
Possibly by reascending the gorge he might find an avenue to more solid ground toward the west, but as he had no actual assurance of this and as both he and Gabula were well-nigh exhausted from the physical strain of the descent, he preferred to find an easier way to the lake shore if it were possible.
He saw that while the river at this point was not swift, the current was rapid enough to suggest that the bottom might be sufficiently free from mud to make it possible for them to utilize it as an avenue to the lake, if it were not too deep.
To test the feasibility of the idea, be lowered himself into the water, holding to one end of his alpenstock, while Gabula seized the other. He found that the water came to his waist-line and that the bottom was firm and solid.
'Come on, Gabula. This is our way to the lake, I guess,' he said.
As Gabula slipped into the water behind his master, the dugout containing the warriors pushed silently along the watery lane among the papyrus and with silent paddles was urged swiftly toward the mouth of the stream where it emptied into the lake.
As von Harben and Gabula descended the stream they found that the depth of the water did not greatly increase. Once or twice they stumbled into deeper holes and were forced to swim, but in other places the water shallowed until it was only to their knees, and thus they made their way down to the lake at the verge of which their view was shut off by clumps of papyrus rising twelve or fifteen feet above the surface of the water.
'It begins to look,' said von Harben, 'as though there is no solid ground along the shore line, but the roots of the papyus will hold us and if we can make our way to the west end of the lake I am sure that we shall find solid ground, for I am positive that I saw higher land there as we were descending the cliff.'
Feeling their way cautiously along, they came at last to the first clump of papyrus and just as von Harben was about to clamber to the solid footing of the roots, a canoe shot from behind the mass of floating plants and the two men found themselves covered by the weapons of a boatload of warriors.
Chapter Five
LUKEDI, the Bagego, carried a gourd of milk to a hut in the village of his people on the lower slopes at the west end of the Wiramwazi range.
Two stalwart spearmen stood guard at the doorway of the hut. 'Nyuto has sent me with milk for the prisoner,' said Lukedi. 'Has his spirit returned to him?'
'Go in and see,' directed one of the sentries.
Lukedi entered the hut and in the dim light saw the figure of a giant white man sitting upon the dirt floor gazing at him. The man's wrists were bound together behind his back and his ankles were secured with tough fiber strands.
'Here is food,' said Lukedi, setting the gourd upon the ground near the prisoner.
'How can I eat with my hands tied behind my back?' demanded Tarzan. Lukedi scratched his head. 'I do not know,' he said. 'Nyuto sent me with the food. He did not tell me to free your hands.'
'Cut the bond,' said Tarzan, 'otherwise I cannot eat.'
One of the spearmen entered the hut. 'What is he saying?' he demanded.
'He says, that he cannot eat unless his hands are freed,' said Lukedi.
'Did Nyuto tell you to free his hands?' asked the spearman.
'No,' said Lukedi.
The spearman shrugged his shoulders. 'Leave the food then; that is all you were asked to do.'
Lukedi turned to leave the hut. 'Wait,' said Tarzan. 'Who is Nyuto?'
'He is chief of the Bagegos,' said Lukedi.
'Go to him and tell him that I wish to see him. Tell him also that I cannot eat with my hands tied behind my back.'
Lukedi was gone for half an hour. When he returned he brought an old, rusted slave chain and an ancient padlock.
'Nyuto says that we may chain him to the center pole and then cut the bonds that secure his hands,' he said to the guard.
The three men entered the hut where Lukedi passed one end of the chain around the center pole, pulling it through a ring on the other end; the free end he then passed around Tarzan's neck, securing it there with the old slave padlock.
'Cut the bonds that hold his wrists,' said Lukedi to one of the spearmen.
'Do it yourself,' retorted the warrior, 'Nyuto sent you to do it. He did not tell me to cut the bonds.'
Lukedi hesitated. It was apparent that he was afraid.
'We will stand ready with our spears,' said the guardsmen; 'then he cannot harm you.'
'I shall not harm him,' said Tarzan. 'Who are you anyway and who do you think I am?'
One of the guardsmen laughed. 'He asked who we are as though he did not know!'
'We know who you are, all right,' said the other warrior.
