“Wellah nay, he be many marches from here.”
“Where art thy companions?” demanded the ape-man.
“I have none.”
“Thou art alone?”
“Billah, yes.”
Tarzan frowned. “Think well Beduwy before lying to Tarzan,” he snapped.
“By Ullah, I speak the truth! I am alone.”
“And why?”
“Fahd did plot against me to make it appear that I had tried to take the life of Ibn Jad, which, before Allah, is a lie that stinketh to heaven, and I was to be shot; but Ateja, the daughter of the sheykh, cut my bonds in the night and I escaped.”
“What is thy name?”
“Zeyd.”
“Whither goest thou—to thine own country?”
“Yes, to beled el-Guad, a Beny Salem fendy of el-Harb.”
“Thou canst not, alone, survive the perils of the way,” Tarzan warned him.
“Of that I be fearful, but death were certain had I not escaped the wrath of Ibn Jad.”
For a moment Tarzan was silent in thought. “Great must be the love of Ateja, the daughter of the sheik, and great her belief in you,” he said.
“Wellah, yes, great is our love and, too, she knew that I would not slay her father, whom she loves.”
Tarzan nodded. “I believe thee and shall help thee. Thou canst not go on alone. I shall take thee to the nearest village and there the chief will furnish you with warriors who will take you to the next village, and thus from village to village you will be escorted to the Sudan.”
“May Allah ever watch over and guard thee!” exclaimed Zeyd.
“Tell me,” said Tarzan as the two moved along the jungle trail in the direction of the nearest village which lay two marches to the south of them, “tell me what Ibn Jad doth in this country. It is not true that he came for ivory alone. Am I not right?”
“Wellah yes, Sheykh Tarzan,” admitted Zeyd. “Ibn Jad came for treasure, but not for ivory.”
“What, then?”
“In el-Habash lies the treasure city of Nimmr,” explained Zeyd. “This Ibn Jad was told by a learned sahar. So great is the wealth of Nimmr that a thousand camels could carry away not a tenth part of it. It consists of gold and jewels and—a woman.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, a woman of such wondrous beauty that in the north she alone would bring a price that would make Ibn Jad rich beyond dreams. Surely thou must have heard of Nimmr.”
“Sometimes the Gallas speak of it,” said Tarzan, “but always I thought it of no more reality than the other places of their legends. And Ibn Jad undertook this long and dangerous journey on no more than the word of a magician?”
“What could be better than the word of a learned sahar?” demanded Zeyd.
Tarzan of the Apes shrugged.
During the two days that it took them to reach the village Tarzan learned of the white man who had come to the camp of Ibn Jad, but from Zeyd’s description of him he was not positive whether it was Blake or Stimbol.
As Tarzan travelled south with Zeyd, Ibn Jad trekked northward into el-Habash, and Fahd plotted with Tollog, and Stimbol plotted with Fahd, while Fejjuan the Galla slave waited patiently for the moment of his delivery from bondage, and Ateja mourned for Zeyd.
“As a boy thou wert raised in this country, Fejjuan,” she said one day to the Galla slave. “Tell me, dost thou think Zeyd could make his way alone to el-Guad?”
“Billah, nay,” replied the black. “Doubtless he be dead by now.”
The girl stifled a sob.
“Fejjuan mourns with thee, Ateja,” said the black, “for Zeyd was a kindly man. Would that Allah had spared your lover and taken him who was guilty.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ateja. “Knowest thou, Fejjuan, who fired the shot at Ibn Jad, my father? It was not Zeyd! Tell me it was not Zeyd! But thy words tell me that, which I well knew before. Zeyd could not have sought the life of my father!”
“Nor did he,” replied Fejjuan.
“Tell me what you know of this thing.”
“And you will not tell another who told you?” he asked. “It would go hard with me if one I am thinking of knew that I had seen what I did see.”
“I swear by Allah that I wilt not betray you, Fejjuan,” cried the girl. “Tell me, what didst thou see?”
“I did not see who fired the shot at thy father, Ateja,” replied the black, “but something else I saw before the shot was fired.”
“Yes, what was it?”
“I saw Fahd creep into the beyt of Zeyd and come out again bearing Zeyd’s matchlock. That I saw.”
“I knew it! I knew it!” cried the girl.
“But Ibn Jad will not believe if you tell him.”
“I know; but now that I am convinced perhaps I shall find a way to have Fahd’s blood for the blood of Zeyd,” cried the girl, bitterly.
For days Ibn Jad skirted the mountains behind which he thought lay the fabled city of Nimmr as he searched for an entrance which he hoped to find without having recourse to the natives whose haunts he had sedulously avoided lest through them opposition to his venture might develop.
The country was sparsely settled, which rendered it easy for the Arab to avoid coming into close contact with the natives, though it was impossible that the Gallas were ignorant of their presence. If however the blacks were willing to leave them alone, Ibn Jad had no intention of molesting them unless he found that it would be impossible to carry his project to a successful issue without their assistance, in which event he was equally ready to approach them with false promises or ruthless cruelty, whichever seemed the more likely to better serve his purpose.
As the days passed Ibn Jad waxed increasingly impatient, for, search as he would, he could locate no pass across the mountains, nor any entrance to the fabled valley wherein lay the treasure city of Nimmr.
“Billah!” he exclaimed one day, “there be a City of Nimmr and there be an entrance to it, and, by Allah, I will
