'We're no more lost than our guides,' van Eyk reminded him.
'If we keep on going east we ought to strike some village where we can get guides.'
'All right, let's get going.'
Within half a mile they emerged from the forest at the edge of a wide, rolling plain.
'What a relief!' exclaimed van Eyk. 'A little more of that forest and I'd have gone nuts.'
'Look!' Wood seized his companion by the arm and pointed. 'Men!'
'Looks like a war party. See those plumes? Maybe we'd better lay low.'
'Well, the responsibility is no longer ours. They've seen us. Here they come.'
The two men stood watching a party of a dozen warriors approaching them.
'Gee, they're a good-looking bunch,' commented Wood.
'I hope they're also good.'
The blacks halted a dozen paces from the white men; then one who was evidently their leader approached closer.
'What are the bwanas doing in this country?' he asked in good English. 'Are they hunting?'
'We're lost,' explained Wood. 'We want to get guides to get us out of here.'
'Come,' said the black. 'I take you to the Big Bwana.'
'What's his name?' asked van Eyk. 'Perhaps we know him.'
'He is Tarzan.'
The two whites looked at one another in astonishment.
'You don't mean to tell me there really is a Tarzan?' demanded Wood.
'Who ever tells you there isn't does not speak true words. In an hour you shall see him.'
'What is your name?'
'Muviro, bwana.'
'Well, lead on, Muviro; we're ready.'
An hour later the two men stood on the broad verandah of a sprawling bungalow waiting the coming of their host.
'Tarzan!' muttered van Eyk. 'It doesn't seem possible. This must be he coming. They heard footsteps approaching from the interior of the house, and a moment later a man stepped onto the verandah and faced them.
'Clayton!' they both exclaimed in unison.
'I am glad to see you,' said Tarzan. 'I hadn't been able to get any word of you, and I was worried. Where have you been?'
'The night you left, Spike and Troll stole the Gonfal and the great emerald and beat it. They took Gonfala with them. We have been hunting for them. The very first day we lost their trail in some rocky country. We never found it again. Some of our blacks thought they had gone to the south and west. We searched in that direction and got lost ourselves.'
'The Gonfal and the great emerald are both gone? Well, perhaps it is just as well. They would have brought more unhappiness than anything else. Riches usually do.'
'Hang the stones!' exclaimed Wood. 'It is Gonfala I want to find. I don't give a tinker's damn for either of the rocks.'
'I think we shall find her. It is not difficult for me to find anyone in Africa. But now I will have you shown to your rooms. You will find a bath and clean clothes; among them something that will fit you, I'm sure. When you are ready, come to the patio; you will find us there.'
Van Eyk was the first to enter the patio, a flowering paradise around which the house was built. A golden haired girl lay on a reed chaise lounge, a copy of the Illustrated London News in her hand. Hearing him, she turned. Her eyes went wide in astonishment.
'Bob!' she gasped as she sprang to her feet.
'Gonfala!'
'Where is he? Is he all right?'
'Yes; he is here. How did you escape from Spike and Troll?'
'Escape from Spike and Troll? I was never with them.'
'You went away alone? Why did you go?'
She told him then what she had overheard Spike and Troll say. 'I knew then that I would spoil Stanlee's life. I knew that he loved me. I never thought that he wanted me just for the emerald. And I loved him. I loved him too much to let him marry me. Perhaps, when he had time to think it over, he was glad that I went away.'
Van Eyk shook his head. 'No, you are very wrong. I spoke to him of the matter; and here is what he said, as nearly as I can recall his words: 'I'd go through Hell for her. I'd live in Hell for her, and thank God for the opportunity. That is how much I love her.' I think those were about his very words.'
Tears came to the girl's eyes. 'May I see him soon?'
'He'll be out in a minute. Here he comes now. I'll go.'
She looked her thanks.
When Wood came into the patio and saw her, he just stood and looked at her for a moment, devouring her with his eyes. He never said a word or asked a question-just-crossed to her and took her in his arms. Their voices were too full of tears of happiness for words.
After a while, when they could speak, each had the other's story. After that they knew that nothing could ever come between them.
In the evening, with the others, they were discussing their plans for the future. Wood said they would be married and go at once to America.
'I must go to London first,' said Gonfala. 'I have a letter to take to the Colonial Office there. You know, I told you about it. Let me get it. I cannot read it. I was never taught to read.'
She went to her room and presently returned with the letter. It was yellow with age. She handed it to Tarzan. 'Please read it aloud,' she said. Tarzan opened the single sheet and read:
'To Whom it May Concern:
'I am giving this letter to my daughter to take to London to identify her if she is ever fortunate enough to escape from the Kaji. They killed her mother shortly after she was born and raised her to be queen of the Kaji. They call her Gonfala. I have never dared to tell her that she is my daughter, as Mafka has threatened to kill her if she ever learns that he is not her father.
'Mountford.'
Chapter 13. Cannibals
A LOW SUN POINTED LONG shadows toward the east; the tired day was preparing to lay aside its burdens. Far away, a lion roared. It was the prelude to another African night, majestic as the king of beasts and as savage.
A party of eight men laid down their few belongings and made camp beside a water hole. Two of the men were white. Like their black companions they were armed with bows and arrows and short spears; there was not a firearm among them all.
Some of the men carried meat from the last kill, and there were two packages wrapped in skins. Beside their weapons, that was all. It was a poorly equipped safari, if it could be said to have been equipped at all.
The blacks were quiet, speaking in whispers as they cooked the meat for their evening meal. The white men were glum and scowling.
One of them nodded toward the blacks. 'The beggars are scairt stiff.'
The other nodded. 'Cannibal country, and they know it.'
His companion sat scowling down at the two skin wrapped packages for a long period of silence. 'I'm a-scairt myself, Troll,' he said finally. 'Scairt o' these things. I think they's a curse on 'em.'
Troll shrugged. 'I could take a lot o' cursin' for six million pun.'
'Yeh; if we get out alive.'
