“It is what we wish,” said the sheik quickly. “Ask this other Nasrany if it be not true that we are lost and would be but too glad to have thee lead us upon the right way. Here we be beset by Galla warriors. Their chief hath been gathering them for days and momentarily we fear that we shall be attacked. Is that not true, Nasrany?” he turned to Stimbol as he spoke.
“Yes, it is true,” said Stimbol.
“It is true that you are going to leave the country,” said Tarzan, “and I shall remain to see that you do so. Tomorrow you will start. In the meantime set aside a beyt for me—and let there be no more treachery.”
“Thou needst fear nothing,” Ibn Jad assured him, then he turned his face toward the women’s quarters. “Hirfa! Ateja!” he called. “Make ready the beyt of Zeyd for the sheykh of the jungle.”
To one side but at no great distance from the beyt of Ibn Jad the two women raised the black tent for Tarzan, and when the am’dan had been placed and straightened and the tunb el-beyt made fast to the pegs that Ateja drove into the earth Hirfa returned to her household duties, leaving her daughter to stretch the side curtains.
The instant that Hirfa was out of ear shot Ateja ran to Tarzan.
“Oh, Nasrany,” she cried, “thou hast seen my Zeyd? He is safe?”
“I left him in a village where the chief will care for him until such time as thy people come upon thy return to the desert country. He is quite safe and well.”
“Tell me of him, oh, Nasrany, for my heart hungers for word of him,” implored the girl. “How came you upon him? Where was he?”
“His mare had been dragged down by el-adrea who was about to devour your lover. I chanced to be there and slew el-adrea. Then I took Zeyd to the village of a chief who is my friend, for I knew that he could not survive the perils of the jungle should I leave him afoot and alone. It was my thought to send him from the country in safety, but he begged to remain until you returned that way. This I have permitted. In a few weeks you will see your lover.”
Tears were falling from Ateja’s long, black lashes—tears of joy—as she seized Tarzan’s hand and kissed it. “My life is thine, Nasrany,” she cried, “for that thou hast given me back my lover.”
That night as the Galla slave, Fejjuan, walked through the menzil of his masters he saw Ibn Jad and Tollog sitting in the sheik’s mukaad whispering together and Fejjuan, well aware of the inherent turpitude of this precious pair, wondered what might be the nature of their plotting.
Behind the curtain of the hareem Ateja lay huddled upon her sleeping mat, but she did not sleep. Instead she was listening to the whispered conversation of her father and her uncle.
“He must be put out of the way,” Ibn Jad insisted.
“But his Waziri are coming,” objected Tollog. “If they do not find him here what can we say? They will not believe us, whatever we say. They will set upon us. I have heard that they are terrible men.”
“By Ullah!” cried Ibn Jad. “If he stays we are undone. Better risk something than to return empty handed to our own country after all that we have passed through.”
“If thou thinkest that I shall again take this business upon myself thou art mistaken, brother,” said Tollog. “Once was enough.”
“No, not thee; but we must find a way. Is there none among us who might wish more than another to be rid of the Nasrany?” asked Ibn Jad, but to himself as though he were thinking aloud.
“The other Nasrany!” exclaimed Tollog. “He hateth him.”
Ibn Jad clapped his hands together. “Thou hast it, brother!”
“But still shall we be held responsible,” reminded Tollog.
“What matter if he be out of the way. We can be no worse off than we now are. Suppose Batando came tomorrow with the guides? Then indeed would the jungle sheykh know that we have lied to him, and it might go hard with us. No, we must be rid of him this very night.”
“Yes, but how?” asked Tollog.
“Hold! I have a plan. Listen well, O brother!” and Ibn Jad rubbed his palms together and smiled, but he would not have smiled, perhaps had he known that Ateja listened, or had he seen the silent figure crouching in the dark just beyond the outer curtain of his beyt.
“Speak, Ibn Jad,” urged Tollog, “tell me thy plan.”
“Wellah, it is known by all that the Nasrany Stimbol hates the sheykh of the jungle. With loud tongue he hath proclaimed it many times before all when many were gathered in my mukaad.”
“You would send Stimbol to slay Tarzan of the Apes?”
“Thou guessed aright,” admitted Ibn Jad.
“But how wilt that relieve us of responsibility? He wilt have been slain by thy order in thine own menzil,” objected Tollog.
“Wait! I shall not command the one Nasrany to slay the other; I shall but suggest it, and when it is done I shall be filled with rage and horror that this murder hath been done in my menzil. And to prove my good faith I shall order that the murderer be put to death in punishment for his crime. Thus we shall be rid of two unbelieving dogs and at the same time be able to convince the Waziri that we were indeed the friends of their sheykh, for we shall mourn him with loud lamentations—when the Waziri shall have arrived.”
“Allah be praised for such a brother!” exclaimed Tollog, enraptured.
“Go thou now, at once, and summon the Nasrany Stimbol,” directed Ibn Jad. “Send him to me alone, and after I have spoken with him and he hath departed upon his errand come thee back to my beyt.”
Ateja trembled upon her sleeping mat, while
