They took Tarzan then and at a distance from the beyt of Ibn Jad they pushed him into a small hejra; but once within this tent it required three men to throw him to the ground and bind his ankles, even though his wrists were already bound.
In the beyt of the sheik the Beduins sipped their coffee, sickish with clove, cinnamon and other spice, the while they discussed the ill fortune that had befallen them; for, regardless of his bravado, Ibn Jad knew full well that only speed and most propitious circumstances could now place the seal of success upon his venture.
“But for Motlog,” said Fahd, “we would now have no cause for worry concerning the Nasrany, for I had my knife ready to slit the dog’s throat when Motlog interfered.”
“And had word of his slaying spread broadcast over his country before another sunset and all his people at our heels,” countered Motlog.
“Wellah,” said Tollog, the sheik’s brother. “I wish Fahd had done the thing he wished. After all how much better off are we if we permit the Nasrany to live? Should we free him we know that he will gather his people and drive us from the country. If we keep him prisoner and an escaped slave carries word of it to his people will they not be upon us even more surely than as though we had slain him?”
“Tollog, thou speakest words of wisdom,” said Ibn Jad, nodding appreciatively.
“But wait,” said Tollog, “I have within me, unspoken, words of even greater worth.” He leaned forward motioning the others closer and lowered his voice. “Should this one whom they call Tarzan escape during the night, or should we set him free, there would be no bad word for an escaped slave to bear to his people.”
“Billah!” exclaimed Fahd disgustedly. “There would be no need for an escaped slave to bring word to his people—the Nasrany himself would do that and lead them upon us in person. Bah! the brains of Tollog are as camel’s dung.”
“Thou hast not heard all that I would say, brother,” continued Tollog, ignoring Fahd. “It would only seem to the slaves that this man had escaped, for in the morning he would be gone and we would make great lamentation over the matter, or we would say: ‘Wellah, it is true that Ibn Jad made peace with the stranger, who departed into the jungle, blessing him.’ ”
“I do not follow thee, brother,” said Ibn Jad.
“The Nasrany lies bound in yonder hejra. The night will be dark. A slim knife between his ribs were enough. There be faithful Habash among us who will do our bidding, nor speak of the matter after. They can prepare a trench from the bottom of which a dead Tarzan may not reach out to harm us.”
“By Ullah, it is plain that thou art of sheykhly blood, Tollog,” exclaimed Ibn Jad. “The wisdom of thy words proclaims it. Thou shalt attend to the whole matter. Then will it be done secretly and well. The blessings of Ullah be upon thee!” and Ibn Jad arose and entered the quarters of his hareem.
II
Comrades of the Wild
Darkness fell upon the menzil of Ibn Jad the sheik. Beneath the small flitting tent where his captors had left him, Tarzan still struggled with the bonds that secured his wrists, but the tough camel leather withstood even the might of his giant thews. At times he lay listening to the night noises of the jungle, many of them noises that no other human ear could have heard, and always he interpreted each correctly. He knew when Numa passed and Sheeta the leopard; and then from afar and so faintly that it was but the shadow of a whisper, there came down the wind the trumpeting of a bull elephant.
Without the beyt of Ibn Jad Ateja, the sheik’s daughter, loitered, and with her was Zeyd. They stood very close to one another and the man held the maiden’s hands in his.
“Tell me, Ateja,” he said, “that you love no other than Zeyd.”
“How many times must I tell you that?” whispered the girl.
“And you do not love Fahd?” insisted the man.
“Billah, no!” she ejaculated.
“Yet your father gives the impression that one day you will be Fahd’s.”
“My father wishes me to be of the hareem of Fahd, but I mistrust the man, and I could not belong to one whom I neither loved nor trusted.”
“I, too, mistrust Fahd,” said Zeyd. “Listen Ateja! I doubt his loyalty to thy father, and not his alone, but another whose name I durst not even whisper. Upon occasions I have seen them muttering together when they thought that there were no others about.”
The girl nodded her head. “I know. It is not necessary even to whisper the name to me—and I hate him even as I hate Fahd.”
“But he is of thine own kin,” the youth reminded her.
“What of that? Is he not also my father’s brother? If that bond does not hold him loyal to Ibn Jad, who hath treated him well, why should I pretend loyalty for him? Nay, I think him a traitor to my father, but Ibn Jad seems blind to the fact. We are a long way from our own country and if aught should befall the sheykh, Tollog, being next of blood, would assume the sheykhly duties and honors. I think he hath won Fahd’s support by a promise to further his suit for me with Ibn Jad, for I have noticed that Tollog exerts himself to praise Fahd in the hearing of my father.”
“And perhaps a division of the spoils of the ghrazzu upon the treasure city,” suggested Zeyd.
“It is not unlikely,” replied the girl, “and—Ullah! what was that?”
The Beduins seated about the coffee fire leaped to their feet. The black slaves, startled, peered out into the darkness from their rude shelters. Muskets were seized. Silence fell
