Tarzan and the Lion-Man

through the bars to Tarzan. 'Will you not smoke Mr.—ah—er—Obroski I believe the young lady called you. Stanley Obroski! That would be a Polish name, I believe; but you do not resemble a Pole. You look quite English—quite as English as I.'

'I do not smoke,' said Tarzan, and then added, 'than you.'

'You do not know what you miss—tobacco is such a boon to tired nerves.'

'My nerves are never tired.'

'Fortunate man! And fortunate for me too. I could not ask for anything better than a combination of youth with a healthy body and a healthy nervous system—to say nothing of your unquestionable masculine beauty. I shall be wholly regenerated.'

'I do not know what you are talking about,' said Tarzan.

'No, of course not. How could one expect that you would understand what I alone in all the world know! But some other time I shall be delighted to explain. Right now I must go up and have a look down into the king's courtyard. I find that I must keep an eye on Henry the Eighth. He has been grossly misbehaving himself of late—he and Suffolk and Howard. I shall leave this torch burning for you—it will make it much more pleasant; and I want you to enjoy yourselves as much as possible before the—ah—er—well, au revoir! Make yourselves quite at home.' He turned and crossed toward a door at the opposite side of the room, chuckling as he went.

Tarzan stepped quickly to the bars separating the two rooms. 'Come back here!' he commanded. 'Either let us out of this hole or tell us why you are holding us—what you intend doing with us.'

The creature wheeled suddenly, its expression transformed by a hideous snarl. 'You dare issue orders to me!' it screamed.

'And why not?' demanded the ape-man. 'Who are you?'

The creature took a step nearer the bars and tapped its hairy chest with a horny talon. 'I am God!' it cried.

Chapter Twenty-Five 'Before I Eat You!'

As the thing that called itself God departed from the other chamber, closing the door after it, Tarzan turned toward the girl sitting on the straw of their prison cell. 'I have seen many strange things in my life,' he said, 'but this is by far the strangest. Sometimes I think that I must be dreaming.'

'That is what I thought at first,' replied the girl; 'but this is no dream—it is a terrible, a frightful reality.'

'Including God?' he asked.

'Yes; even God is a reality. That thing is the god of these gorillas. They all fear him and most of them worship him.

They say that he created them. I do not understand it—it is all like a hideous chimera.'

'What do you suppose he intends to do with us?'

'Oh, I don't know; but it is something horrible,' she replied. 'Down in the city they venture hideous guesses, but even they do not know. He brings young gorillas here, and they are never seen again.'

'How long have you been here?'

'I have been in God's castle since yesterday, but I was in the palace of Henry the Eighth for more than a week. Don't those names sound incongruous when applied to beasts?'

'I thought that nothing more could ever sound strange to me after I met Buckingham this morning and heard him speak English—a bull gorilla!'

'You met Buckingham? It was he who captured me and brought me to this city. Did he capture you too?'

Tarzan shook his head. 'No. He had captured Naomi Madison.'

'Naomi! What became of her?'

'She is with Orman and West and one of the Arabs at the foot of the falls. I came here to find you and take you to them; but it is commencing to look as though I had made a mess of it—getting captured myself.'

'But how did Naomi get away from Buckingham?' demanded the girl.

'I killed him.'

'You killed Buckingham!' She looked at him with wide, unbelieving eyes.

From the reactions of the others toward his various exploits Tarzan had already come to understand that Obroski's friends had not held his courage in very high esteem, and so it amused him all the more that they should mistake him for this unquestioned coward.

The girl surveyed him in silence through level eyes for several moments as though she were trying to read his soul and learn the measure of his imposture; then she shook her head.

'You're not a bad kid, Stanley,' she said; 'but you mustn't tell naughty stories to your Aunt Rhonda.'

One of the ape-man's rare smiles bared his strong, white teeth. 'No one can fool you, can they?' he asked admiringly.

'Well, I'll admit that they'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to put anything over on Rhonda Terry. But what I can't understand is that make-up of yours—the scenery—where did you get it and why? I should think you'd freeze.'

'You will have to ask Rungula, chief of the Bansutos,' replied Tarzan.

'What has he to do with it?'

'He appropriated the Obroski wardrobe.'

'I commence to see the light. But if you were captured by the Bansutos, how did you escape?'

'If I told you you would not believe me. You do not believe that I killed Buckingham.'

'How could I, unless you sneaked up on him while he was asleep? It just isn't in the cards, Stanley, for any man to have killed that big gorilla unless he had a rifle—that's it! You shot him.'

'And then threw my rifle away?' inquired the ape-man.

'M-m-m, that doesn't sound reasonable, does it? No, I guess you're just a plain damn liar, Stanley.'

'Thank you.'

'Don't get sore. I really like you and always have; but I have seen too much of life to believe in miracles, and the idea of you killing Buckingham single-handed would be nothing short of a miracle.'

Tarzan turned away and commenced to examine the room in which they were confined. The flickering light of the torch in the adjoining room lighted it dimly. He found a square chamber the walls of which were faced with roughly hewn stone. The ceiling was of planking supported by huge beams. The far end of the room was so dark that he could not see the ceiling at that point; the last beam cast a heavy shadow there upon the ceiling. He thought he detected a steady current of air moving from the barred doorway of the other room to this far corner of their cell, suggesting an opening there; but he could find none, and abandoned the idea.

Having finished his inspection he came and sat down on the straw beside Rhonda. 'You say you have been here a week?' he inquired.

'In the city—not right here,' she replied. 'Why?'

'I was thinking—they must feed you, then?' he inquired.

'Yes; celery, bamboo tips, fruit, and nuts—it gets monotonous.'

'I was not thinking of what they fed you but of how. How is your food brought to you and when? I mean since you have been in this room.'

'When they brought me here yesterday they gave me enough food for the day; this morning they brought me another day's supply. They bring it into that next room and shove it through the bars—no dishes or anything like that—they just shove it through onto the floor with their dirty, bare hands, or paws. All except the water—they bring water in that gourd there in the corner.'

'They don't open the door, then, and come into the room?'

'No.'