TARZAN AND THE BLACK BOY
 TARZAN OF THE APES sat at the foot of a great tree braiding a new grass rope. Beside him lay the
frayed remnants of the old one, torn and severed by the fangs and talons of Sheeta, the panther.
Only half the original rope was there, the balance having been carried off by the angry cat as he
bounded away through the jungle with the noose still about his savage neck and the loose end
dragging among the underbrush.
Tarzan smiled as he recalled Sheeta's great rage, his frantic efforts to free himself from the
entangling strands, his uncanny screams that were part hate, part anger, part terror. He smiled in
retrospection at the discomfiture of his enemy, and in anticipation of another day as he added an
extra strand to his new rope.
This would be the strongest, the heaviest rope that Tarzan of the Apes ever had fashioned. Visions
of Numa, the lion, straining futilely in its embrace thrilled the ape-man. He was quite content, for
his hands and his brain were busy. Content, too, were his fellows of the tribe of Kerchak,
 searching for food in the clearing and the surrounding trees about him. No perplexing thoughts of
the future burdened their minds, and only occasionally, dimly arose recollections of the near past.
They were stimulated to a species of brutal content by the delectable business of filling their
bellies. Afterward they would sleep—it was their life, and they enjoyed it as we enjoy ours,
you and I—as Tarzan enjoyed his. Possibly they enjoyed theirs more than we enjoy ours, for who
shall say that the beasts of the jungle do not better fulfill the purposes for which they are
created than does man with his many excursions into strange fields and his contraventions of the
laws of nature? And what gives greater content and greater happiness than the fulfilling of a
As Tarzan worked, Gazan, Teeka's little balu, played about him while Teeka sought food upon the
opposite side of the clearing. No more did Teeka, the mother, or Taug, the sullen sire, harbor
suspicions of Tarzan's intentions toward their first-born. Had he not courted death to save their
Gazan from the fangs and talons of Sheeta? Did he not fondle and cuddle the little one with even as
great a show of affection as Teeka herself displayed? Their fears were allayed and Tarzan now found
himself often in the role of nursemaid to a tiny anthropoid— an avocation which he found by no
irk-  some, since Gazan was a never-failing fount of surprises and entertainment.
Just now the apeling was developing those arboreal tendencies which were to stand him in such good
stead during the years of his youth, when rapid flight into the upper terraces was of far more
importance and value than his undeveloped muscles and untried fighting fangs. Backing off fifteen or
twenty feet from the bole of the tree beneath the branches of which Tarzan worked upon his rope,
Gazan scampered quickly forward, scrambling nimbly upward to the lower limbs. Here he would squat
for a moment or two, quite proud of his achievement, then clamber to the ground again and repeat.
Sometimes, quite often in fact, for he was an ape, his attention was distracted by other things, a
beetle, a caterpillar, a tiny field mouse, and off he would go in pursuit; the caterpillars he
always caught, and sometimes the beetles; but the field mice, never.
Now he discovered the tail of the rope upon which Tarzan was working. Grasping it in one small hand
he bounced away, for all the world like an animated rubber ball, snatching it from the ape-man's
hand and running off across the clearing. Tarzan leaped to his feet and was in pursuit in an
instant, no trace of anger on his face or in his voice as he called to the roguish little balu to
drop his rope.
Straight toward his mother raced Gazan, and
 after him came Tarzan. Teeka looked up from her feeding, and in the first instant that she realized
that Gazan was fleeing and that another was in pursuit, she bared her fangs and bristled; but when
she saw that the pursuer was Tarzan she turned back to the business that had been occupying her
attention. At her very feet the ape-man overhauled the balu and, though the youngster squealed and
fought when Tarzan seized him, Teeka only glanced casually in their direction. No longer did she
fear harm to her first-born at the hands of the ape-man. Had he not saved Gazan on two occasions?
Rescuing his rope, Tarzan returned to his tree and resumed his labor; but thereafter it was
necessary to watch carefully the playful balu, who was now possessed to steal it whenever he thought
his great, smooth-skinned cousin was momentarily off his guard.
But even under this handicap Tarzan finally completed the rope, a long, pliant weapon, stronger than
any he ever had made before. The discarded piece of his former one he gave to Gazan for a plaything,
for Tarzan had it in his mind to instruct Teeka's balu after ideas of his own when the youngster
should be old and strong enough to profit by his precepts. At present the little ape's innate
aptitude for mimicry would be sufficient to familiarize him with Tarzan's ways and weapons, and so
the ape-man swung off into the jungle, his new rope coiled
 over one shoulder, while little Gazan hopped about the clearing dragging the old one after him in
As Tarzan traveled, dividing his quest for food with one for a sufficiently noble quarry whereupon
to test his new weapon, his mind often was upon Gazan. The ape-man had realized a deep affection for
Teeka's balu almost from the first, partly because the child belonged to Teeka, his first love, and
partly for the little ape's own sake, and Tarzan's human longing for some sentient creature upon
which to expend those natural affections of the soul which are inherent to all normal members of the
genus hom. Tarzan envied Teeka. It was true that Gazan evidenced a considerable reciprocation
of Tarzan's fondness for him, even preferring him to his own surly sire; but to Teeka the little one
turned when in pain or terror, when tired or hungry. Then it was that Tarzan felt quite alone in the
world and longed desperately for one who should turn first to him for succor and protection.
Taug had Teeka; Teeka had Gazan; and nearly every other bull and cow of the tribe of Kerchak had one
or more to love and by whom to be loved. Of course Tarzan could scarcely formulate the thought in
precisely this way—he only knew that he craved something which was denied him; something which
seemed to be represented by those relations which existed between Teeka and her balu,
 and so he envied Teeka and longed for a balu of his own.
He saw Sheeta and his mate with their little family of three; and deeper inland toward the rocky
hills, where one might lie up during the heat of the day, in the dense shade of a tangled thicket
close under the cool face of an overhanging rock, Tarzan had found the lair of Numa, the lion, and
of Sabor, the lioness. Here he had watched them with their little balus—playful creatures,
spotted leopard-like. And he had seen the young fawn with Bara, the deer, and with Buto, the
rhinoceros, its ungainly little one. Each of the creatures of the jungle had its own—except
Tarzan. It made the ape-man sad to think upon this thing, sad and lonely; but presently the scent of
game cleared his young mind of all other considerations, as catlike he crawled far out upon a
bending limb above the game trail which led down to the ancient watering place of the wild things of
this wild world.
How many thousands of times had this great, old limb bent to the savage form of some blood-thirsty
hunter in the long years that it had spread its leafy branches above the deep-worn jungle path!
Tarzan, the ape-man, Sheeta, the panther, and Histah, the snake, it knew well. They had worn smooth
the bark upon its upper surface.
Today it was Horta, the
 boar, which came down toward the watcher in the old tree—Horta, the boar, whose formidable
tusks and diabolical temper preserved him from all but the most ferocious or most famished of the
But to Tarzan, meat was meat; naught that was edible or tasty might pass a hungry Tarzan
unchallenged and unattacked. In hunger, as in battle, the ape-man out-savaged the dreariest denizens
of the jungle. He knew neither fear nor mercy, except upon rare occasions when some strange,
inexplicable force stayed his hand—a force inexplicable to him, perhaps, because of his
ignorance of his own origin and of all the forces of humanitarianism and civilization that were his
rightful heritage because of that origin.
So today, instead of staying his hand until a less formidable feast found its way toward him, Tarzan
dropped his new noose about the neck of Horta, the boar. It was an excellent test for the untried
strands. The angered boar bolted this way and that; but each time the new rope held him where Tarzan
had made it fast about the stem of the tree above the branch from which he had cast it.
As Horta grunted and charged, slashing the sturdy jungle patriarch with his mighty tusks until the
bark flew in every direction, Tarzan dropped to the ground behind him. In the ape-man's hand was the
long, keen blade that had been his constant companion since that distant day upon which chance had
directed its point into the body of Bolgani, the
 gorilla, and saved the torn and bleeding man-child from what else had been certain death.
Tarzan walked in toward Horta, who swung now to face his enemy. Mighty and muscled as was the young
giant, it yet would have appeared but the maddest folly for him to face so formidable a creature as
Horta, the boar, armed only with a slender hunting knife. So it would have seemed to one who knew
Horta even slightly and Tarzan not at all.
For a moment Horta stood motionless facing the ape-man. His wicked, deep-set eyes flashed angrily.
He shook his lowered head.
"Mud-eater!" jeered the ape-man. "Wallower in filth. Even your meat stinks, but it is juicy and
makes Tarzan strong. Today I shall eat your heart, O Lord of the Great Tusks, that it shall keep
savage that which pounds against my own ribs."
Horta, understanding nothing of what Tarzan said, was none the less enraged because of that. He saw
only a naked man-thing, hairless and futile, pitting his puny fangs and soft muscles against his own
indomitable savagery, and he charged.
Tarzan of the Apes waited until the upcut of a wicked tusk would have laid open his thigh, then he
moved—just the least bit to one side; but so quickly that lightning was a sluggard by
comparison, and as he moved, he stooped low and with all the great power of his right arm drove the
long blade of his father's hunting knife straight into the heart
 of Horta, the boar. A quick leap carried him from the zone of the creature's death throes, and a
moment later the hot and dripping heart of Horta was in his grasp.
His hunger satisfied, Tarzan did not seek a lying-up place for sleep, as was sometimes his way, but
continued on through the jungle more in search of adventure than of food, for today he was restless.
And so it came that he turned his footsteps toward the village of Mbonga, the black chief, whose
people Tarzan had baited remorselessly since that day upon which Kulonga, the chief's son, had slain
A river winds close beside the village of the black men. Tarzan reached its side a little below the
clearing where squat the thatched huts of the Negroes. The river life was ever fascinating to the
ape-man. He found pleasure in watching the ungainly antics of Duro, the hippopotamus, and keen sport
in tormenting the sluggish crocodile, Gimla, as he basked in the sun. Then, too, there were the shes
and the balus of the black men of the Gomangani to frighten as they squatted by the river, the shes
with their meager washing, the balus with their primitive toys.
This day he came upon a woman and her child farther down stream than usual. The former was searching
for a species of shellfish which was to be found in the mud close to the river bank. She was
 a young black woman of about thirty. Her teeth were filed to sharp points, for her people ate
the flesh of man. Her under lip was slit that it might support a rude pendant of copper which she
had worn for so many years that the lip had been dragged downward to prodigious lengths, exposing
the teeth and gums of her lower jaw. Her nose, too, was slit, and through the slit was a wooden
skewer. Metal ornaments dangled from her ears, and upon her forehead and cheeks; upon her chin and
the bridge of her nose were tattooings in colors that were mellowed now by age. She was naked except
for a girdle of grasses about her waist. Altogether she was very beautiful in her own estimation and
even in the estimation of the men of Mbonga's tribe, though she was of another people—a trophy
of war seized in her maidenhood by one of Mbonga's fighting men.
Her child was a boy of ten, lithe, straight and, for a black, handsome. Tarzan looked upon the two
from the concealing foliage of a near-by bush. He was about to leap forth before them with a
terrifying scream, that he might enjoy the spectacle of their terror and their incontinent flight;
but of a sudden a new whim seized him. Here was a balu fashioned as he himself was fashioned. Of
course this one's skin was black; but what of it? Tarzan had never seen a white man. In so far as he
knew, he was the sole representative of that
 strange form of life upon the earth. The black boy should make an excellent balu for Tarzan, since
he had none of his own. He would tend him carefully, feed him well, protect him as only Tarzan of
the Apes could protect his own, and teach him out of his half human, half bestial lore the secrets
of the jungle from its rotting surface vegetation to the high tossed pinnacles of the forest's upper
Tarzan uncoiled his rope, and shook out the noose. The two before him, all ignorant of the near
presence of that terrifying form, continued preoccupied in the search for shellfish, poking about in
the mud with short sticks.
Tarzan stepped from the jungle behind them; his noose lay open upon the ground beside him. There was
a quick movement of the right arm and the noose rose gracefully into the air, hovered an instant
above the head of the unsuspecting youth, then settled. As it encompassed his body below the
shoulders, Tarzan gave a quick jerk that tightened it about the boy's arms, pinioning them to his
sides. A scream of terror broke from the lad's lips, and as his mother turned, affrighted at his
cry, she saw him being dragged quickly toward a great white giant who stood just beneath the shade
of a near-by tree, scarcely a dozen long paces from her.
With a savage cry of terror and rage, the woman leaped fearlessly toward the ape-man. In her mien
Tarzan saw determination and courage which would
 shrink not even from death itself. She was very hideous and frightful even when her face was in
repose; but convulsed by passion, her expression became terrifyingly fiendish. Even the ape-man drew
back, but more in revulsion than fear—fear he knew not.
Biting and kicking was the black she's balu as Tarzan tucked him beneath his arm and vanished into
the branches hanging low above him, just as the infuriated mother dashed forward to seize and do
battle with him. And as he melted away into the depth of the jungle with his still struggling prize,
he meditated upon the possibilities which might lie in the prowess of the Gomangani were the hes as
formidable as the shes.
Once at a safe distance from the despoiled mother and out of earshot of her screams and menaces,
Tarzan paused to inspect his prize, now so thoroughly terrorized that he had ceased his struggles
and his outcries.
The frightened child rolled his eyes fearfully toward his captor, until the whites showed gleaming
all about the irises.
"I am Tarzan," said the ape-man, in the vernacular of the anthropoids. "I will not harm you. You are
to be Tarzan's balu. Tarzan will protect you. He will feed you. The best in the jungle shall be for
Tarzan's balu, for Tarzan is a mighty hunter. None need you fear, not even Numa, the lion, for
 Tarzan is a mighty fighter. None so great as Tarzan, son of Kala. Do not fear."
But the child only whimpered and trembled, for he did not understand the tongue of the great apes,
and the voice of Tarzan sounded to him like the barking and growling of a beast. Then, too, he had
heard stories of this bad, white forest god. It was he who had slain Kulonga and others of the
warriors of Mbonga, the chief. It was he who entered the village stealthily, by magic, in the
darkness of the night, to steal arrows and poison, and frighten the women and the children and even
the great warriors. Doubtless this wicked god fed upon little boys. Had his mother not said as much
when he was naughty and she threatened to give him to the white god of the jungle if he were not
good? Little black Tibo shook as with ague.
"Are you cold, Go-bu-balu?" asked Tarzan, using the simian equivalent of black he-baby in lieu of a
better name. "The sun is hot; why do you shiver?"
Tibo could not understand; but he cried for his mamma and begged the great, white god to let him go,
promising always to be a good boy thereafter if his plea were granted. Tarzan shook his head. Not a
word could he understand. This would never do! He must teach Go-bu-balu a language which sounded
like talk. It was quite certain to Tarzan that Go-bu-balu's speech was not talk at all. It
 sounded quite as senseless as the chattering of the silly birds. It would be best, thought the
ape-man, quickly to get him among the tribe of Kerchak where he would hear the Mangani talking among
themselves. Thus he would soon learn an intelligible form of speech.
Tarzan rose to his feet upon the swaying branch where he had halted far above the ground, and
motioned to the child to follow him; but Tibo only clung tightly to the bole of the tree and wept.
Being a boy, and a native African, he had, of course, climbed into trees many times before this; but
the idea of racing off through the forest, leaping from one branch to another, as his captor, to his
horror, had done when he had carried Tibo away from his mother, filled his childish heart with
Tarzan sighed. His newly acquired balu had much indeed to learn. It was pitiful that a balu of his
size and strength should be so backward. He tried to coax Tibo to follow him; but the child dared
not, so Tarzan picked him up and carried him upon his back. Tibo no longer scratched or bit. Escape
seemed impossible. Even now, were he set upon the ground, the chance was remote, he knew, that he
could find his way back to the village of Mbonga, the chief. Even if he could, there were the lions
and the leopards and the hyenas, any one of which, as Tibo was well aware, was particularly fond of
the meat of little black boys.
 So far the terrible white god of the jungle had offered him no harm. He could not expect even this
much consideration from the frightful, green-eyed man-eaters. It would be the lesser of two evils,
then, to let the white god carry him away without scratching and biting, as he had done at first.
As Tarzan swung rapidly through the trees, little Tibo closed his eyes in terror rather than look
longer down into the frightful abysses beneath. Never before in all his life had Tibo been so
frightened, yet as the white giant sped on with him through the forest there stole over the child an
inexplicable sensation of security as he saw how true were the leaps of the ape-man, how unerring
his grasp upon the swaying limbs which gave him hand-hold, and then, too, there was safety in the
middle terraces of the forest, far above the reach of the dreaded lions.
And so Tarzan came to the clearing where the tribe fed, dropping among them with his new balu
clinging tightly to his shoulders. He was fairly in the midst of them before Tibo spied a single one
of the great hairy forms, or before the apes realized that Tarzan was not alone. When they saw the
little Gomangani perched upon his back some of them came forward in curiosity with upcurled lips and
An hour before little Tibo would have said that he knew the uttermost depths of fear; but now, as
 he saw these fearsome beasts surrounding him, he realized that all that had gone before was as
nothing by comparison. Why did the great white giant stand there so unconcernedly? Why did he not
flee before these horrid, hairy, tree men fell upon them both and tore them to pieces? And then
there came to Tibo a numbing recollection. It was none other than the story he had heard passed from
mouth to mouth, fearfully, by the people of Mbonga, the chief, that this great white demon of the
jungle was naught other than a hairless ape, for had not he been seen in company with these?
Tibo could only stare in wide-eyed horror at the approaching apes. He saw their beetling brows,
their great fangs, their wicked eyes. He noted their mighty muscles rolling beneath their shaggy
hides. Their every attitude and expression was a menace. Tarzan saw this, too. He drew Tibo around
in front of him.
"This is Tarzan's Go-bu-balu," he said. "Do not harm him, or Tarzan will kill you," and he bared his
own fangs in the teeth of the nearest ape.
 "It is a Gomangani," replied the ape. "Let me kill it. It is a Gomangani. The Gomangani are our
enemies. Let me kill it."
"Go away," snarled Tarzan. "I tell you, Gunto, it is Tarzan's balu. Go away or Tarzan will kill
you," and the ape-man took a step toward the advancing ape.
The latter sidled off, quite stiff and haughty, after the manner of a dog which meets another and is
too proud to fight and too fearful to turn his back and run.
Next came Teeka, prompted by curiosity. At her side skipped little Gazan. They were filled with
wonder like the others; but Teeka did not bare her fangs. Tarzan saw this and motioned that she
"Tarzan has a balu now," he said. "He and Teeka's balu can play together."
"It is a Gomangani, " replied Teeka. "It will kill my balu. Take it away, Tarzan."
Tarzan laughed. "It could not harm Pamba, the rat," he said. "It is but a little balu and very
frightened. Let Gazan play with it."
Teeka still was fearful, for with all their mighty ferocity the great anthropoids are timid; but at
last, assured by her great confidence in Tarzan, she pushed Gazan forward toward the little black
boy. The small ape, guided by instinct, drew back toward its mother, baring its small fangs and
screaming in mingled fear and rage.
Tibo, too, showed no signs of desiring a closer acquaintance with Gazan, so Tarzan gave up his
efforts for the time.
During the week which followed, Tarzan found his time much occupied. His balu was a greater
responsibility than he had counted upon. Not for a
 moment did he dare leave it, since of all the tribe, Teeka alone could have been depended upon to
refrain from slaying the hapless black had it not been for Tarzan's constant watchfulness. When the
ape-man hunted, he must carry Go-bu-balu about with him. It was irksome, and then the little black
seemed so stupid and fearful to Tarzan. It was quite helpless against even the lesser of the jungle
creatures. Tarzan wondered how it had survived at all. He tried to teach it, and found a ray of hope
in the fact that Go-bu-balu had mastered a few words of the language of the anthropoids, and that he
could now cling to a high-tossed branch without screaming in fear; but there was something about the
child which worried Tarzan. He often had watched the blacks within their village. He had seen the
children playing, and always there had been much laughter; but little Go-bu-balu never laughed. It
was true that Tarzan himself never laughed. Upon occasion he smiled, grimly, but to laughter he was
a stranger. The black, however, should have laughed, reasoned the ape-man. It was the way of the
Also, he saw that the little fellow often refused food and was growing thinner day by day. At times
he surprised the boy sobbing softly to himself. Tarzan tried to comfort him, even as fierce Kala had
comforted Tarzan when the ape-man was a balu, but all to no avail. Go-bu-balu merely no longer
feared Tarzan—that was all. He feared every other liv
 ing thing within the jungle. He feared the jungle days with their long excursions through the dizzy
tree tops. He feared the jungle nights with their swaying, perilous couches far above the ground,
and the grunting and coughing of the great carnivora prowling beneath him.
Tarzan did not know what to do. His heritage of English blood rendered it a difficult thing even to
consider a surrender of his project, though he was forced to admit to himself that his balu was not
all that he had hoped. Though he was faithful to his self-imposed task, and even found that he had
grown to like Go-bu-balu, he could not deceive himself into believing that he felt for it that
fierce heat of passionate affection which Teeka revealed for Gazan, and which the black mother had
shown for Go-bu-balu.
The little black boy from cringing terror at the sight of Tarzan passed by degrees into trustfulness
and admiration. Only kindness had he ever received at the hands of the great white devil-god, yet he
had seen with what ferocity his kindly captor could deal with others. He had seen him leap upon a
certain he-ape which persisted in attempting to seize and slay Go-bu-balu. He had seen the strong,
white teeth of the ape-man fastened in the neck of his adversary, and the mighty muscles tensed in
battle. He had heard the savage, bestial snarls and roars of combat, and he had realized with a
shudder that he
 could not differentiate between those of his guardian and those of the hairy ape.
He had seen Tarzan bring down a buck, just as Numa, the lion, might have done, leaping upon its back
and fastening his fangs in the creature's neck. Tibo had shuddered at the sight, but he had
thrilled, too, and for the first time there entered his dull, Negroid mind a vague desire to emulate
his savage foster parent. But Tibo, the little black boy, lacked the divine spark which had
permitted Tarzan, the white boy, to benefit by his training in the ways of the fierce jungle. In
imagination he was wanting, and imagination is but another name for super-intelligence.
Imagination it is which builds bridges, and cities, and empires. The beasts know it not, the blacks
only a little, while to one in a hundred thousand of earth's dominant race it is given as a gift
from heaven that man may not perish from the earth.
While Tarzan pondered his problem concerning the future of his balu, Fate was arranging to take the
matter out of his hands. Momaya, Tibo's mother, grief-stricken at the loss of her boy, had consulted
the tribal witch-doctor, but to no avail. The medicine he made was not good medicine, for though
Momaya paid him two goats for it, it did not bring back Tibo, nor even indicate where she might
search for him with reasonable assurance of finding him. Momaya, being of a short temper and of
 people, had little respect for the witch-doctor of her husband's tribe, and so, when he suggested
that a further payment of two more fat goats would doubtless enable him to make stronger medicine,
she promptly loosed her shrewish tongue upon him, and with such good effect that he was glad to take
himself off with his zebra's tail and his pot of magic.
When he had gone and Momaya had succeeded in partially subduing her anger, she gave herself over to
thought, as she so often had done since the abduction of her Tibo, in the hope that she finally
might discover some feasible means of locating him, or at least assuring herself as to whether he
were alive or dead.
It was known to the blacks that Tarzan did not eat the flesh of man, for he had slain more than one
of their number, yet never tasted the flesh of any. Too, the bodies always had been found, sometimes
dropping as though from the clouds to alight in the center of the village. As Tibo's body had not
been found, Momaya argued that he still lived, but where?
Then it was that there came to her mind a recollection of Bukawai, the unclean, who dwelt in a cave
in the hillside to the north, and who it was well known entertained devils in his evil lair. Few, if
any, had the temerity to visit old Bukawai, firstly because of fear of his black magic and the two
hyenas who dwelt with him and were commonly known to be devils masquerading, and secondly bec
 ause of the loathsome disease which had caused Bukawai to be an outcast—a disease which was
slowly eating away his face.
Now it was that Momaya reasoned shrewdly that if any might know the whereabouts of her Tibo, it
would be Bukawai, who was in friendly intercourse with gods and demons, since a demon or a god it
was who had stolen her baby; but even her great mother love was sorely taxed to find the courage to
send her forth into the black jungle toward the distant hills and the uncanny abode of Bukawai, the
unclean, and his devils.
Mother love, however, is one of the human passions which closely approximates to the dignity of an
irresistible force. It drives the frail flesh of weak women to deeds of heroic measure. Momaya was
neither frail nor weak, physically, but she was a woman, an ignorant, superstitious, African savage.
She believed in devils, in black magic, and in witchcraft. To Momaya, the jungle was inhabited by
far more terrifying things than lions and leopards—horrifying, nameless things which possessed
the power of wreaking frightful harm under various innocent guises.
From one of the warriors of the village, whom she knew to have once stumbled upon the lair of
Bukawai, the mother of Tibo learned how she might find it—near a spring of water which rose in
a small rocky canon between two hills, the easternmost of
 which was easily recognizable because of a huge granite boulder which rested upon its summit. The
westerly hill was lower than its companion, and was quite bare of vegetation except for a single
mimosa tree which grew just a little below its summit.
These two hills, the man assured her, could be seen for some distance before she reached them, and
together formed an excellent guide to her destination. He warned her, however, to abandon so foolish
and dangerous an adventure, emphasizing what she already quite well knew, that if she escaped harm
at the hands of Bukawai and his demons, the chances were that she would not be so fortunate with the
great carnivora of the jungle through which she must pass going and returning.
The warrior even went to Momaya's husband, who, in turn, having little authority over the vixenish
lady of his choice, went to Mbonga, the chief. The latter summoned Momaya, threatening her with the
direst punishment should she venture forth upon so unholy an excursion. The old chief's interest in
the matter was due solely to that age-old alliance which exists between church and state. The local
witch-doctor, knowing his own medicine better than any other knew it, was jealous of all other
pretenders to accomplishments in the black art. He long had heard of the power of Bukawai, and
feared lest, should he succeed in recovering Momaya's lost child, much of the tribal patronage and
 would be diverted to the unclean one. As Mbonga received, as chief, a certain proportion of the
witch-doctor's fees and could expect nothing from Bukawai, his heart and soul were, quite naturally,
wrapped up in the orthodox church.
But if Momaya could view with intrepid heart an excursion into the jungle and a visit to the
fear-haunted abode of Bukawai, she was not likely to be deterred by threats of future punishment at
the hands of old Mbonga, whom she secretly despised. Yet she appeared to accede to his injunctions,
returning to her hut in silence.
She would have preferred starting upon her quest by day-light, but this was now out of the question,
since she must carry food and a weapon of some sort—things which she never could pass out of
the village with by day without being subjected to curious questioning that surely would come
immediately to the ears of Mbonga.
So Momaya bided her time until night, and just before the gates of the village were closed, she
slipped through into the darkness and the jungle. She was much frightened, but she set her face
resolutely toward the north, and though she paused often to listen, breathlessly, for the huge cats
which, here, were her greatest terror, she nevertheless continued her way staunchly for several
hours, until a low moan a little to her right and behind her brought her to a sudden stop.
 With palpitating heart the woman stood, scarce daring to breathe, and then, very faintly but
unmistakable to her keen ears, came the stealthy crunching of twigs and grasses beneath padded feet.
All about Momaya grew the giant trees of the tropical jungle, festooned with hanging vines and
mosses. She seized upon the nearest and started to clamber, apelike, to the branches above. As she
did so, there was a sudden rush of a great body behind her, a menacing roar that caused the earth to
tremble, and something crashed into the very creepers to which she was clinging—but below her.
Momaya drew herself to safety among the leafy branches and thanked the foresight which had prompted
her to bring along the dried human ear which hung from a cord about her neck. She always had known
that that ear was good medicine. It had been given her, when a girl, by the witch-doctor of her town
tribe, and was nothing like the poor, weak medicine of Mbonga's witch-doctor.
All night Momaya clung to her perch, for although the lion sought other prey after a short time, she
dared not descend into the darkness again, for fear she might encounter him or another of his kind;
but at daylight she clambered down and resumed her way.
Tarzan of the Apes, finding that his balu never ceased to give evidence of terror in the presence of
the apes of the tribe, and also that most of the adult
 apes were a constant menace to Go-bu-balu's life, so that Tarzan dared not leave him alone with
them, took to hunting with the little black boy farther and farther from the stamping grounds of the
Little by little his absences from the tribe grew in length as he wandered farther away from them,
until finally he found himself a greater distance to the north than he ever before had hunted, and
with water and ample game and fruit, he felt not at all inclined to return to the tribe.
Little Go-bu-balu gave evidences of a greater interest in life, an interest which varied in direct
proportion to the distance he was
 from the apes of Kerchak. He now trotted along behind Tarzan when the ape-man went upon the ground,
and in the trees he even did his best to follow his mighty foster parent. The boy was still sad and
lonely. His thin, little body had grown steadily thinner since he had come among the apes, for
while, as a young cannibal, he was not overnice in the matter of diet, he found it not always to his
taste to stomach the weird things which tickled the palates of epicures among the apes.
His large eyes were very large indeed now, his cheeks sunken, and every rib of his emaciated body
plainly discernible to whomsoever should care to count them. Constant terror, perhaps, had had as
much to do with his physical condition as had improper food. Tarzan noticed the change and was
worried. He had hoped to see his balu wax sturdy and strong. His disappointment was great. In only
one respect did Go-bu-balu seem to progress—he readily was mastering the language of the apes.
Even now he and Tarzan could converse in a fairly satisfactory manner by supplementing the meager
ape speech with signs; but for the most part, Go-bu-balu was silent other than to answer questions
put to him. His great sorrow was yet too new and too poignant to be laid aside even momentarily.
Always he pined for Momaya—shrewish, hideous, repulsive, perhaps, she would have been to you
or me, but to Tibo she was mamma, the personification of that one great love which knows no
selfishness and which does not consume itself in its own fires.
As the two hunted, or rather as Tarzan hunted and Go-bu-balu tagged along in his wake, the ape-man
noticed many things and thought much. Once they came upon Sabor moaning in the tall grasses. About
her romped and played two little balls of fur, but her eyes were for one which lay between her great
forepaws and did not romp, one who never would romp again.
Tarzan read aright the anguish and the suffering of the huge mother cat. He had been minded to bait
her. It was to do this that he had sneaked silently through the trees until he had come almost above
her, but something held the ape-man as he saw the lioness grieving over her dead cub. With the
acqui-  sition of Go-bu-balu, Tarzan had come to realize the responsibilities and sorrows of parentage,
without its joys. His heart went out to Sabor as it might not have done a few weeks before. As he
watched her, there rose quite unbidden before him a vision of Momaya, the skewer through the septum
of her nose, her pendulous under lip sagging beneath the weight which dragged it down. Tarzan saw
not her unloveliness; he saw only the same anguish that was Sabor's, and he winced. That strange
functioning of the mind which sometimes is called association of ideas snapped Teeka and Gazan
before the ape-man's mental vision. What if one should come and take Gazan from Teeka. Tarzan
uttered a low and ominous growl as though Gazan were his own. Go-bu-balu glanced here and there
apprehensively, thinking that Tarzan had espied an enemy. Sabor sprang suddenly to her feet, her
yellow-green eyes blazing, her tail lashing as she cocked her ears, and raising her muzzle, sniffed
the air for possible danger. The two little cubs, which had been playing, scampered quickly to her,
and standing beneath her, peered out from between her forelegs, their big ears upstanding, their
little heads cocked first upon one side and then upon the other.
With a shake of his black shock, Tarzan turned away and resumed his hunting in another direction;
but all day there rose one after another, above the threshold of his objective mind, memory
 of Sabor, of Momaya, and of Teeka—a lioness, a cannibal, and a she-ape, yet to the ape-man
they were identical through motherhood.
It was noon of the third day when Momaya came within sight of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean. The
old witch-doctor had rigged a framework of interlaced boughs to close the mouth of the cave from
predatory beasts. This was now set to one side, and the black cavern beyond yawned mysterious and
repellent. Momaya shivered as from a cold wind of the rainy season. No sign of life appeared about
the cave, yet Momaya experienced that uncanny sensation as of unseen eyes regarding her
malevolently. Again she shuddered. She tried to force her unwilling feet onward toward the cave,
when from its depths issued an uncanny sound that was neither brute nor human, a weird sound that
was akin to mirthless laughter.
With a stifled scream, Momaya turned and fled into the jungle. For a hundred yards she ran before
she could control her terror, and then she paused, listening. Was all her labor, were all the
terrors and dangers through which she had passed to go for naught? She tried to steel herself to
return to the cave, but again fright overcame her.
Saddened, disheartened, she turned slowly upon the back trail toward the village of Mbonga. Her
young shoulders now were drooped like those of an old woman who bears a great burden of many years
 with their accumulated pains and sorrows, and she walked with tired feet and a halting step. The
spring of youth was gone from Momaya.
For another hundred yards she dragged her weary way, her brain half paralyzed from dumb terror and
suffering, and then there came to her the memory of a little babe that suckled at her breast, and of
a slim boy who romped, laughing, about her, and they were both Tibo—her Tibo!
Her shoulders straightened. She shook her savage head, and she turned about and walked boldly back
to the mouth of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean—of Bukawai, the witch-doctor.
Again, from the interior of the cave came the hideous laughter that was not laughter. This time
Momaya recognized it for what it was, the strange cry of a hyena. No more did she shudder, but she
held her spear ready and called aloud to Bukawai to come out.
Instead of Bukawai came the repulsive head of a hyena. Momaya poked at it with her spear, and the
ugly, sullen brute drew back with an angry growl. Again Momaya called Bukawai by name, and this time
there came an answer in mumbling tones that were scarce more human than those of the beast.
"Who comes to Bukawai?" queried the voice.
"It is Momaya," replied the woman; "Momaya from the village of Mbonga, the chief.
"What do you want?"
 "I want good medicine, better medicine than Mbonga's witch-doctor can make," replied Momaya. "The
great, white, jungle god has stolen my Tibo, and I want medicine to bring him back, or to find where
he is hidden that I may go and get him."
"Who is Tibo?" asked Bukawai.
Momaya told him.
"Bukawai's medicine is very strong," said the voice. "Five goats and a new sleeping mat are scarce
enough in exchange for Bukawai's medicine."
"Two goats are enough," said Momaya, for the spirit of barter is strong in the breasts of the
The pleasure of haggling over the price was a sufficiently potent lure to draw Bukawai to the mouth
of the cave. Momaya was sorry when she saw him that he had not remained within. There are some
things too horrible, too hideous, too repulsive for description—Bukawai's face was of these.
When Momaya saw him she understood why it was that he was almost inarticulate.
Beside him were two hyenas, which rumor had said were his only and constant companions. They made an
excellent trio—the most repulsive of beasts with the most repulsive of humans.
"Five goats and a new sleeping mat," mumbled Bukawai.
"Two fat goats and a sleeping mat." Momaya raised her bid; but Bukawai was obdurate. He stuck for
the five goats and the sleeping mat for a
 matter of half an hour, while the hyenas sniffed and growled and laughed hideously. Momaya was
determined to give all that Bukawai asked if she could do no better, but haggling is second nature
to black barterers, and in the end it partly repaid her, for a compromise finally was reached which
included three fat goats, a new sleeping mat, and a piece of copper wire.
"Come back tonight," said Bukawai, "when the moon is two hours in the sky. Then will I make the
strong medicine which shall bring Tibo back to you. Bring with you the three fat goats, the new
sleeping mat, and the piece of copper wire the length of a large man's forearm."
"I cannot bring them," said Momaya. "You will have to come after them. When you have restored Tibo
to me, you shall have them all at the village of Mbonga.
Bukawai shook his head.
"I will make no medicine," he said, "until I have the goats and the mat and the copper wire."
Momaya pleaded and threatened, but all to no avail. Finally, she turned away and started off through
the jungle toward the village of Mbonga. How she could get three goats and a sleeping mat out of the
village and through the jungle to the cave of Bukawai, she did not know, but that she would do it
somehow she was quite positive—she would do it or die. Tibo must be restored to her.
 Tarzan coming lazily through the jungle with little Go-bu-balu, caught the scent of Bara, the deer.
Tarzan hungered for the flesh of Bara. Naught tickled his palate so greatly; but to stalk Bara with
Go-bu-balu at his heels, was out of the question, so he hid the child in the crotch of a tree where
the thick foliage screened him from view, and set off swiftly and silently upon the spoor of Bara.
Tibo alone was more terrified than Tibo even among the apes. Real and apparent dangers are less
disconcerting than those which we imagine, and only the gods of his people knew how much Tibo
He had been but a short time in his hiding place when he heard something approaching through the
jungle. He crouched closer to the limb upon which he lay and prayed that Tarzan would return
quickly. His wide eyes searched the jungle in the direction of the moving creature.
What if it was a leopard that had caught his scent! It would be upon him in a minute. Hot tears
flowed from the large eyes of little Tibo. The curtain of jungle foliage rustled close at hand. The
thing was but a few paces from his tree! His eyes fairly popped from his black face as he watched
for the appearance of the dread creature which presently would thrust a snarling countenance from
between the vines and creepers.
And then the curtain parted and a woman stepped
 into full view. With a gasping cry, Tibo tumbled
from his perch and raced toward her. Momaya suddenly started back and raised her spear, but a second
later she cast it aside and caught the thin body in her strong arms.
Crushing it to her, she cried and laughed all at one and the same time, and hot tears of joy,
mingled with the tears of Tibo, trickled down the crease between her naked breasts.
Disturbed by the noise so close at hand, there arose from his sleep in a near-by thicket Numa, the
lion. He looked through the tangled underbrush and saw the black woman and her young. He licked his
chops and measured the distance between them and himself. A short charge and a long leap would carry
him upon them. He flicked the end of his tail and sighed.
A vagrant breeze, swirling suddenly in the wrong direction, carried the scent of Tarzan to the
sensitive nostrils of Bara, the deer. There was a startled tensing of muscles and cocking of ears, a
sudden dash, and Tarzan's meat was gone. The ape-man angrily shook his head and turned back toward
the spot where he had left Go-bu-balu. He came softly, as was his way. Before he reached the spot he
heard strange sounds—the sound of a woman laughing and of a woman weeping, and the two which
seemed to come from one throat were mingled with the convulsive sobbing of a child. Tarzan hastened,
 when Tarzan hastened, only the birds and the wind went faster.
And as Tarzan approached the sounds, he heard another, a deep sigh. Momaya did not hear it, nor did
Tibo; but the ears of Tarzan were as the ears of Bara, the deer. He heard the sigh, and he knew, so
he unloosed the heavy spear which dangled at his back. Even as he sped through the branches of the
trees, with the same ease that you or I might take out a pocket handkerchief as we strolled
nonchalantly down a lazy country lane, Tarzan of the Apes took the spear from its thong that it
might be ready against any emergency.
Numa, the lion, did not rush madly to attack. He reasoned again, and reason told him that already
the prey was his, so he pushed his great bulk through the foliage and stood eyeing his meat with
baleful, glaring eyes.
Momaya saw him and shrieked, drawing Tibo closer to her breast. To have found her child and to lose
him, all in a moment! She raised her spear, throwing her hand far back of her shoulder. Numa roared
and stepped slowly forward. Momaya cast her weapon. It grazed the tawny shoulder, inflicting a flesh
wound which aroused all the terrific bestiality of the carnivore, and the lion charged.
Momaya tried to close her eyes, but could not. She saw the flashing swiftness of the huge, oncoming
death, and then she saw something else. She saw a
 mighty, naked white man drop as from the heavens into the path of the charging lion. She saw the
muscles of a great arm flash in the light of the equatorial sun as it filtered, dappling, through
the foliage above. She saw a heavy hunting spear hurtle through the air to meet the lion in midleap.
Numa brought up upon his haunches, roaring terribly and striking at the spear which protruded from
his breast. His great blows bent and twisted the weapon. Tarzan, crouching and with hunting knife in
hand, circled warily about the frenzied cat. Momaya, wide-eyed, stood rooted to the spot, watching,
In sudden fury Numa hurled himself toward the ape-man, but the wiry creature eluded the blundering
charge, side-stepping quickly only to rush in upon his foe. Twice the hunting blade flashed in the
air. Twice it fell upon the back of Numa, already weakening from the spear point so near his heart.
The second stroke of the blade pierced far into the beast's spine, and with a last convulsive sweep
of the fore-paws, in a vain attempt to reach his tormentor, Numa sprawled upon the ground, paralyzed
Bukawai, fearful lest he should lose any recompense, followed Momaya with the intention of
persuading her to part with her ornaments of copper and iron against her return with the price of
the medicine—to pay, as it were, for an option on his
 services as one pays a retaining fee to an attorney, for, like an attorney, Bukawai knew the value
of his medicine and that it was well to collect as much as possible in advance.
The witch-doctor came upon the scene as Tarzan leaped to meet the lion's charge. He saw it all and
marveled, guessing immediately that this must be the strange white demon concerning whom he had
heard vague rumors before Momaya came to him.
Momaya, now that the lion was past harming her or hers, gazed with new terror upon Tarzan. It was he
who had stolen her Tibo. Doubtless he would attempt to steal him again. Momaya hugged the boy close
to her. She was determined to die this time rather than suffer Tibo to be taken from her again.
Tarzan eyed them in silence. The sight of the boy clinging, sobbing, to his mother aroused within
his savage breast a melancholy loneliness. There was none thus to cling to Tarzan, who yearned so
for the love of someone, of something.
At last Tibo looked up, because of the quiet that had fallen upon the jungle, and saw Tarzan. He did
"Tarzan," he said, in the speech of the great apes of the tribe of Kerchak, "do not take me from
Momaya, my mother. Do not take me again to the lair of the hairy, tree men, for I fear Taug and
Gunto and the others. Let me stay with Momaya, O
 Tarzan, God of the Jungle! Let me stay with Momaya, my mother, and to the end of our days we will
bless you and put food before the gates of the village of Mbonga that you may never hunger."
"Go," he said, "back to the village of Mbonga, and Tarzan will follow to see that no harm befalls
Tibo translated the words to his mother, and the two turned their backs upon the ape-man and started
off toward home. In the heart of Momaya was a great fear and a great exultation, for never before
had she walked with God, and never had she been so happy. She strained little Tibo to her, stroking
his thin cheek. Tarzan saw and sighed again.
"For Teeka there is Teeka's balu," he soliloquized; "for Sabor there are balus, and for the
she-Gomangani, and for Bara, and for Manu, and even for Pamba, the rat; but for Tarzan there can be
none—neither a she nor a balu. Tarzan of the Apes is a man, and it must be that man walks
Bukawai saw them go, and he mumbled through his rotting face, swearing a great oath that he would
yet have the three fat goats, the new sleeping mat, and the bit of copper wire.
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