“Come!” she signaled. “We shall go forth together and find these men, and bring them back and punish them.” She shook her cudgel above her head and grimaced horribly.
The others danced about her, imitating her expression and her actions, and when she started off toward the forest they trooped behind her, a savage, bloodthirsty company—all but the woman who still lay panting where she had fallen. She had had enough of man—she was through with him forever.
“For this you shall die!” screamed Caraftap, as he rushed upon Tarzan of the Apes in the long gallery of the slaves’ quarters in the quarry of Elkomoelhago, king of Veltopismakus.
The ape-man stepped quickly aside, avoiding the other, and tripped him with a foot, sending him sprawling, face downward, upon the floor. Caraftap, before he arose, looked about as though in search of a weapon and, his eyes alighting upon the hot brazier, he reached forth to seize it. A murmur of disapproval rose from the slaves who, having been occupied nearby, had seen the inception of the quarrel.
“No weapons!” cried one. “It is not permitted among us. Fight with your bare hands or not at all.”
But Caraftap was too drunk with hate and jealousy to hear them or to heed, and so he grasped the brazier and, rising, rushed at Tarzan to hurl it in his face. Now it was another who tripped him and this time two slaves leaped upon him and wrenched the brazier from his hand. “Fight fair!” they admonished him, and dragged him to his feet.
Tarzan had stood smiling and indifferent, for the rage of others amused him where it was greater than circumstances warranted, and now he waited for Caraftap and when his adversary saw the smile upon his face it but increased his spleen, so that he fairly leaped upon the ape-man in his madness to destroy him, and Tarzan met him with the most surprising defense that Caraftap, who for long had been a bully among the slaves, ever had encountered. It was a doubled fist at the end of a straight arm and it caught Caraftap upon the point of his chin, stretching him upon his back. The slaves, who had by this time gathered in considerable numbers to watch the quarrel, voiced their approval in the shrill, “Ee-ah-ee-ah,” that constituted one form of applause.
Dazed and groggy, Caraftap staggered to his feet once more and with lowered head looked about him as though in search of his enemy. The girl, Talaskar, had come to Tarzan’s side and was standing there looking up into his face.
“You are very strong,” she said, but the expression in her eyes said more, or at least it seemed to Caraftap to say more. It seemed to speak of love, whereas it was only the admiration that a normal woman always feels for strength exercised in a worthy cause.
Caraftap made a noise in his throat that sounded much like the squeal of an angry pig and once again he rushed upon the ape-man. Behind them some slaves were being let into the corridor and as the aperture was open one of the warriors beyond it, who chanced to be stooping down at the time, could see within. He saw but little, though what he saw was enough—a large slave with a shock of black hair raising another large slave high above his head and dashing him to the hard floor. The warrior, pushing the slaves aside, scrambled through into the corridor and ran forward toward the center. Before they were aware of his presence he stood facing Tarzan and Talaskar. It was Kalfastoban.
“What is the meaning of this?” he cried in a loud voice, and then: “Ah, ha! I see. It is The Giant. He would show the other slaves how strong he is, would he?” He glanced at Caraftap, struggling to rise from the floor, and his face grew very dark—Caraftap was a favorite of his. “Such things are not permitted here, fellow!” he cried, shaking his fist in the ape-man’s face, and forgetting in his anger that the new slave neither spoke nor understood. But presently he recollected and motioned Tarzan to follow him. “A hundred lashes will explain to him that he must not quarrel,” he said aloud to no one in particular, but he was looking at Talaskar.
“Do not punish him,” cried the girl, still forgetful of herself. “It was all Caraftap’s fault, Zuanthrol but acted in self-defense.”
Kalfastoban could not take his eyes from the girl’s face and presently she sensed her danger and flushed, but still she stood her ground, interceding for the ape-man. A crooked smile twisted Kalfastoban’s mouth as he laid a familiar hand upon her shoulder.
“How old are you?” he asked.
She told him, shuddering.
“I shall see your master and purchase you,” he announced. “Take no mate.”
Tarzan was looking at Talaskar and it seemed that he could see her wilt, as a flower wilts in noxious air, and then Kalfastoban turned upon him.
“You cannot understand me, you stupid beast,” he said; “but I can tell you, and those around you may listen and, perhaps, guide you from danger. This time I shall let you off, but let it happen again and you shall have a hundred lashes, or worse, maybe; and if I hear that you have had aught to do with this girl, whom I intend to purchase and take to the surface, it will go still harder with you,” with which he strode to the entrance and passed through into the corridor beyond.
After the Vental had departed and the door of the chamber been closed a hand was laid upon Tarzan’s shoulder from behind and a man’s voice called him by name: “Tarzan!” It sounded strange in his ears, far down in this buried chamber beneath the ground, in an alien city and among an alien people, not one of whom
