the native houses, the girl to another.
Hooft thought quickly. He must find a way to get the girl without risking a brush with her companions. Hooft, like all bullies, was yellow. He could stab or shoot a man in the back, but he couldn't face an armed opponent. He preferred to accomplish his ends by intrigue and cunning.
He turned to Amat. 'Take this message to the girl. Tell her an old friend of hers is waiting at the edge of the forest. He doesn't want to come into the village until he is sure her companions are loyal to the Dutch. Tell her to come alone to the edge of the forest and talk with him. He is an old friend of her father. And, Amat, don't tell anyone else we are here. If anyone but the girls comes, we won't be here; but we'll come back some day and kill you. You can tell the girl, too, that if she does not come alone, I won't be here. Repeat the message to me.'
Amat repeated it, and Hooft motioned him on his way. Amat felt like a condemned man who has just received a pardon, or at least a reprieve. He slipped quietly into the village, and went to the foot of the ladder leading to the door of the house where Corrie was quartered. He called to her, and a native girl came to the doorway. When she saw Amat, her lip curled in contempt. 'Go away pig!' she said.
'I have a message for the white woman,' said Amat.
Corrie overheard and came to the doorway. 'What message have you for me?' she asked.
'It is a very private message,' said Amat. 'I cannot shout it.'
'Come up here, then.'
Lara, the native girl, turned up her nose as Amat passed into the house. She knew him for a liar and a sneak, but she did not warn Corrie. What business was it of hers?
Amat delivered his message. Corrie pondered. 'What was the man like?' she asked.
'He is a white man with a beard,' said Amat. 'That is all I know.'
'Is he alone?'
Amat thought quickly, if she knows there are twenty of them, she will not go; then some day the man will come and kill me. 'He is alone,' said Amat.
Corrie picked up her rifle and descended the ladder to the ground. The men of her party were still in the house they had taken over. They were cleaning and oiling the rifles they had acquired. There were no natives about. Only Amat and Lara saw the white girl leave the kampong and enter the forest.
Chapter 15
TARZAN had not been able to gather much information about the guerrillas from the natives. They had heard it rumored that there was one band near a certain volcano about sixty-five kilometers to the southeast. They were able to describe the appearance of this volcano and various landmarks that might help to guide Tarzan to it, and with this meager information he had set out.
He travelled until night fell, and then lay up until morning in a tree. His only weapons were his bow and arrows and his knife. He had not wished to be burdened with the Jap rifle and ammunition. In the morning he gathered some fruit and shot a hare for his breakfast.
The country through which he passed was extremely wild and destitute of any signs of man. Nothing could have suited Tarzan better. He liked the companions whom he had left behind; but notwithstanding all his contacts with men, he had never become wholly gregarious. His people were the wild things of the forest and jungle and plain. With them, he was always at home. He liked to watch them and study them. He often knew them better than they knew themselves.
He passed many monkeys. They scolded him until he spoke to them in their own language. They knew their world, and through them he kept upon the right route to the volcano. They told him in what direction to go to reach the next landmark of which the natives had spoken—a little lake, a mountain meadow, the crater of an extinct volcano.
When he thought that he should be approaching his destination, he asked some monkeys if there were white men near a volcano. He called it argo ved—fire mountain. They said there were, and told him how to reach their camp. One old monkey said, 'Kreeg-ah! Tarmangani sord. Tarmangani bundolo,' and he mimicked the aiming of a rifle, and said, 'Boo! Boo!' Beware! White men bad. White men kill.
He found the camp in a little gorge, but before he came to it he saw a sentry guarding the only approach. Tarzan came out into the open and walked toward the man, a bearded Dutchman. The fellow cocked his rifle and waited until Tarzan came to within twenty-five or thirty yards of him; then he halted him.
'Who are you and what are you doing here?' he demanded.
'I am an Englishman. I should like to talk with your chief.'
The man had been appraising Tarzan with some show of astonishment. 'Stay where you are,' he ordered. 'Don't come any closer;' then he called down into the gorge: 'de Lettenhove! There's a wild man up here wants to talk to you.'
Tarzan repressed a smile. He had heard this description of himself many times before, but never with quite such blatant disregard of his feelings. Then he recalled that he had spoken to the man in English and said that he was an Englishman, while the fellow had called to de Lettenhove in Dutch, doubtless believing that the 'wild man' did not understand that language. He would continue to let them believe so.
Presently, three men came up out of the valley. All were heavily armed. They were bearded, tough looking men. They wore patched, tattered, nondescript clothing, partly civilian', partly military, partly crudely fashioned from the skins of animals. One of them wore a disreputable tunic with the two stars of a first lieutenant on the shoulder tabs. This was de Lettenhove. He spoke to the sentry in Dutch.
'What was this man doing?'
'He just walked up to me. He made no effort to avoid me or hide from me. He is probably a harmless half-wit, but what the devil he's doing here gets me. He says he is English. He spoke to me in that language.'
De Lettenhove turned to Tarzan. 'Who are you? What are you doing here?' he asked in English.
'My name is Clayton. I am a colonel in the RAF. I understood that a company of Dutch guerrillas was camped here. I wanted to talk with their commanding officer. Are you he? I know that there are also bands of outlaws in the mountains, but the only way I could find out which you are was to come and talk with you. I had to take that chance.'
'I am not the commanding officer,' said de Lettenhove. 'Capt. van Prins is in command, but he is not here today. We expect him back tomorrow. Just what do you want to see him about? I can assure you,' he added with a smile, 'that we are outlaws only in the eyes of the Japs and the native collaborationists.'
'I came because I wanted to make contact with people I could trust, who could give me information as to the location of Jap outposts and native villages whose people are friendly to the Dutch. I wish to avoid the former and, perhaps, obtain help from the latter. I am trying to reach the coast, where I shall try to obtain a boat and escape from the island.'
De Lettenhove turned to one of the men who had accompanied him from the camp in the valley. 'I was commencing to believe him,' he said in Dutch, 'until he sprung that one about getting a boat and escaping from the island. He must think we're damn fools to fall from any such silly explanation of his presence here. He's probably a damn German spy. We'll just hang onto him until van Prins gets back.' Then, to Tarzan, in English: 'You say you are an English officer. Of course you have some means of identification?'
'None,' replied Tarzan.
'May I ask why an English officer is running around in the mountains of Sumatra naked and armed with bow and arrows and a knife?' His tone was ironical. 'My friend, you certainly can't expect us to believe you. You will remain here until Capt. van Prins returns.'
'As a prisoner?' asked Tarzan.
'As a prisoner. Come, we will take you down to camp.'
The camp was neat and well policed. There were no women. There was a row of thatched huts laid out with military precision. The red, white, and blue flag of the Netherlands flew from a staff in front of one of the huts. Twenty or thirty men were variously occupied about the camp, most of them cleaning rifles or pistols. Tattered and torn and shabby were their clothes, but their weapons were immaculate. That this was a well disciplined military camp Tarzan was now convinced. These were no outlaws. He knew that he could trust these men.
