They thought that the son of The First Woman intended that they should slay all of the enemy and so they were surprised when they saw him overhaul a comely, young female and, seizing her by the hair, disarm her. So remarkable did it seem to them that one of their number, having a woman in his power, did not immediately slay her, they were constrained to pause and gather around him, asking questions in their strange sign language.
“Why do you hold her?” “Why do you not kill her?” “Are you not afraid that she will kill you?” were some of the many that were launched at him.
“I am going to keep her,” replied the son of The First Woman. “I do not like to cook. She shall cook for me. If she refuses I shall stick her with this,” and he made a jab toward the young woman’s ribs with his spear, a gesture that caused her to cower and drop fearfully upon one knee.
The men jumped up and down in excitement as the value of this plan and the evident terror of the woman for the man sank into their dull souls.
“Where are the women?” they signed to one another; but the women had disappeared.
One of the men started off in the direction they had gone. “I go!” he signaled. “I come back with a woman of my own, to cook for me!” In a mad rush the others followed him, leaving the son of The First Woman alone with his she. He turned upon her.
“You will cook for me?” he demanded.
To his signs she but returned a sullen, snarling visage. The son of The First Woman raised his spear and with the heavy shaft struck the girl upon the head, knocking her down, and he stood over her, himself snarling and scowling, menacing her with further punishment, while she cowered where she had fallen. He kicked her in the side.
“Get up!” he commanded.
Slowly she crawled to her knees and embracing his legs gazed up into his face with an expression of doglike adulation and devotion.
“You will cook for me?” he demanded again.
“Forever!” she replied in the sign language of their people.
Tarzan had remained but a short time in the little room adjoining that in which Zoanthrohago had received Elkomoelhago, when he was summoned to appear before them alone, and as he entered the room his master motioned him to approach the desk behind which the two men sat. There was no other person in the room, even the warriors having been dismissed.
“You are quite positive that he understands nothing of our language?” demanded the king.
“He has not spoken a word since he was captured,” replied Zoanthrohago. “We had supposed him some new form of Zertalacolol until it was discovered that he possessed a language through which he was able to communicate with the other Trohanadalmakusian slave. It is perfectly safe to speak freely before him, All-Wise.”
Elkomoelhago cast a quick, suspicious glance at his companion. He would have preferred that Zoanthrohago of all men address him as All-Glorious—it was less definite in its implication. He might deceive others, even himself, as to his wisdom, but he was perfectly aware that he could not fool Zoanthrohago.
“We have never discussed fully,” said the king, “the details of this experiment. It was for this purpose that I came to the laboratory today. Now that we have the subject here let us go into the matter fully and determine what next step we should take.”
“Yes, All-Wise,” replied Zoanthrohago.
“Call me Thagosoto,” snapped Elkomoelhago.
“Yes, Thagosoto,” said the prince, using the Minunian word for Chief-Royal, or King, as Elkomoelhago had commanded. “Let us discuss the matter, by all means. It presents possibilities of great importance to your throne.” He knew that what Elkomoelhago meant by discussing the matter consisted only in receiving from Zoanthrohago a detailed explanation of how he had reduced the stature of the slave Zuanthrol to one quarter its original proportions; but he proposed, if possible, to obtain value received for the information, which he knew the king would use for his own aggrandizement, giving Zoanthrohago no credit whatever for his discoveries or all the long moons he had devoted to accomplishing this marvelous, scientific miracle.
“Before we enter into this discussion, O, Thagosoto,” he said, “I beg that you will grant me one boon, which I have long desired and have hitherto hesitated to request, knowing that I did not deserve the recognition I crave for my poor talents and my mean service to thy illustrious and justly renowned rule.”
“What boon do you wish?” demanded Elkomoelhago, crustily. At heart he feared this wisest of men, and, like the coward that he was, with him to fear was to hate. If he could have destroyed Zoanthrohago he would gladly have done so; but he could not afford to do this, since from this greatest of walmaks came whatever show of scientific ability the king could make, as well as all the many notable inventions for the safeguarding of the royal person.
“I would sit at the royal council,” said Zoanthrohago, simply.
The king fidgeted. Of all the nobles of Veltopismakus here was the very last he would wish to see numbered among the royal councilors, whom he had chosen with especial reference to the obtuseness of their minds.
“There are no vacancies,” he said, at last.
“The ruler of all men might easily make a vacancy,” suggested Zoanthrohago, “or create a new post—Assistant Chief of Chiefs, for example, so that when Gofoloso was absent there would be one to take his place. Otherwise I should not have to attend upon your council meetings, but devote my time to the perfection of our discoveries and inventions.”
Here was a way out and Elkomoelhago seized it. He
