THE LIGHT OF KNOWLEDGE
 AFTER what seemed an eternity to the little sufferer he was able to walk once more, and from then on his recovery
was so rapid that in another month he was as strong and active as ever.
During his convalescence he had gone over in his mind many times the battle with the gorilla, and his first
thought was to recover the wonderful little weapon which had transformed him from a hopelessly outclassed
weakling to the superior of the mighty terror of the jungle.
Also, he was anxious to return to the cabin and continue his investigations of its wondrous contents.
So, early one morning, he set forth alone upon his quest. After a little search he located the clean-picked
bones of his late adversary, and close by, partly buried beneath the fallen leaves, he found the knife, now
red with rust from its exposure to the dampness of the ground and from the dried blood of the gorilla.
He did not like the change in its former bright and gleaming surface; but it was still a formidable weapon,
and one which he meant to use to
 advantage whenever the opportunity presented itself. He had in mind that no more would he run from the
wanton attacks of old Tublat.
In another moment he was at the cabin, and after a short time had again thrown the latch and entered. His
first concern was to learn the mechanism of the lock, and this he did by examining it closely while the door
was open, so that he could learn precisely what caused it to hold the door, and by what means it released at
He found that he could close and lock the door from within, and this he did so that there would be no chance
of his being molested while at his investigation.
He commenced a systematic search of the cabin; but his attention was soon riveted by the books which seemed to
exert a strange and powerful influence over him, so that he could scarce attend to aught else for the lure of
the wondrous puzzle which their purpose presented to him.
Among the other books were a primer, some child's readers, numerous picture books, and a great dictionary.
All of these he examined, but the pictures caught his fancy most, though the strange little bugs which covered
the pages where there were no pictures excited his wonder and deepest thought.
Squatting upon his haunches on the table top in the cabin his father had built—his smooth, brown, naked
little body bent over the book which
 rested in his strong slender hands, and his great shock of long, black hair falling about his well-shaped head
and bright, intelligent eyes—Tarzan of the apes, little primitive man, presented a picture filled, at
once, with pathos and with promise—an allegorical figure of the primordial groping through the black
night of ignorance toward the light of learning.
His little face was tense in study, for he had partially grasped, in a hazy, nebulous way, the rudiments of a
thought which was destined to prove the key and the solution to the puzzling problem of the strange little
In his hands was a primer opened at a picture of a little ape similar to himself, but covered, except for
hands and face, with strange, colored fur, for such he thought the jacket and trousers to be. Beneath the
picture were three little bugs—
And now he had discovered in the text upon the page that these three were repeated many times in the same
Another fact he learned—that there were comparatively few individual bugs; but these were repeated many
times, occasionally alone, but more often in company with others.
Slowly he turned the pages, scanning the pictures and the text for a repetition of the combination B-O-Y.
Presently he found it beneath a
 picture of another little ape and a strange animal which went upon four legs like the jackal and resembled
him not a little. Beneath this picture the bugs appeared as:
There they were, the three little bugs which always accompanied the little ape.
And so he progressed very, very slowly, for it was a hard and laborious task which he had set himself without
knowing it—a task which might seem to you or me impossible—learning to read without having the
slightest knowledge of letters or written language, or the faintest idea that such things existed.
He did not accomplish it in a day, or in a week, or in a month, or in a year; but slowly, very slowly, he
learned after he had grasped the possibilities which lay in those little bugs, so that by the time he was
fifteen he knew the various combinations of letters which stood for every pictured figure in the little primer
and in one or two of the picture books.
Of the meaning and use of the articles and conjunctions, verbs and adverbs and pronouns he had but the
One day when he was about twelve he found a number of lead pencils in a hitherto undiscovered drawer beneath
the table, and in scratching upon the table top with one of them he was de
 lighted to discover the black line it left behind it.
He worked so assiduously with this new toy that the table top was soon a mass of scrawly loops and irregular
lines and his pencil-point worn down to the wood. Then he took another pencil, but this time he had a
definite object in view.
He would attempt to reproduce some of the little bugs that scrambled over the pages of his books.
It was a difficult task, for he held the pencil as one would grasp the hilt of a dagger, which does not add
greatly to ease in writing or to the legibility of the results.
But he persevered for months, at such times as he was able to come to the cabin, until at last by repeated
experimenting he found a position in which to hold the pencil that best permitted him to guide and control it,
so that at last he could roughly reproduce any of the little bugs.
Thus he made a beginning of writing.
Copying the bugs taught him another thing—their number; and though he could not count as we understand
it, yet he had an idea of quantity, the base of his calculations being the number of fingers upon one of his
His search through the various books convinced him that he had discovered all the different kinds of bugs most
often repeated in combination, and these he arranged in proper order with great ease because of the frequency
 which he had perused the fascinating alphabet picture book.
His education progressed; but his greatest finds were in the inexhaustible storehouse of the huge illustrated
dictionary, for he learned more through the medium of pictures than text, even after he had grasped the
significance of the bugs.
When he discovered the arrangement of words in alphabetical order he delighted in searching for and finding
the combinations with which he was familiar, and the words which followed them, their definitions, led him
still further into the mazes of erudition.
By the time he was seventeen he had learned to read the simple, child's primer and had fully realized the true
and wonderful purpose of the little bugs.
No longer did he feel shame for his hairless body or his human features, for now his reason told him that he
was of a different race from his wild and hairy companions. He was a M-A-N, they were A-P-E-S, and the little
apes which scurried through the forest top were M-O-N-K-E-Y-S. He knew, too, that old Sabor was a
L-I-O-N-E-S-S, and Histah a S-N-A-K-E, and Tantor an E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T. And so he learned to read. From then on
his progress was rapid. With the help of the great dictionary and the active intelligence of a healthy mind
inher-  itance with more than ordinary reasoning powers he shrewdly guessed at much which he could not really
understand, and more often than not his guesses were close to the mark of truth.
There were many breaks in his education, caused by the migratory habits of his tribe, but even when removed
from his books his active brain continued to search out the mysteries of his fascinating avocation.
Pieces of bark and flat leaves and even smooth stretches of bare earth provided him with copy books whereon to
scratch with the point of his hunting knife the lessons he was learning.
Nor did he neglect the sterner duties of life while following the bent of his inclination toward the solving
of the mystery of his library.
He practiced with his rope and played with his sharp knife, which he had learned to keep keen by whetting upon
The tribe had grown larger since Tarzan had come among them, for under the leadership of Kerchak they had been
able to frighten the other tribes from their part of the jungle so that they had plenty to eat and little or
no loss from predatory incursions of neighbors.
Hence the younger males as they became adult found it more comfortable to take mates from their own tribe, or
if they captured one of another tribe to bring her back to Kerchak's band and live in amity with him rather
than attempt to set up new establishments of their own, or
 fight with the redoubtable Kerchak for supremacy at home.
Occasionally one more ferocious than his fellows would attempt this latter alternative, but none had come yet
who could wrest the palm of victory from the fierce and brutal ape.
Tarzan held a peculiar position in the tribe. They seemed to consider him one of them and yet in some way
different. The older males either ignored him entirely or else hated him so vindictively that but for his
wondrous agility and speed and the fierce protection of the huge Kala he would have been dispatched at an
Tublat was his most consistent enemy, but it was through Tublat that, when he was about thirteen, the
persecution of his enemies suddenly ceased and he was left severely alone, except on the occasions when one of
them ran amuck in the throes of one of those strange, wild fits of insane rage which attacks the males of many
of the fiercer animals of the jungle. Then none was safe.
On the day that Tarzan established his right to respect, the tribe was gathered about a small natural
amphitheater which the jungle had left free from its entangling vines and creepers in a hollow among some low
The open space was almost circular in shape. Upon every hand rose the mighty giants of the untouched forest,
with the matted undergrowth banked so closely between the huge trunks that festaworm99
 the only opening into the little, level arena was through the upper branches of the trees.
Here, safe from interruption, the tribe often gathered. In the center of the amphitheater was one of those
strange earthen drums which the anthropoids build for the queer rites the sounds of which men have heard in
the fastnesses of the jungle, but which none has ever witnessed.
Many travelers have seen the drums of the great apes, and some have heard the sounds of their beating and the
noise of the wild, weird revelry of these first lords of the jungle, but Tarzan, Lord Greystoke, is,
doubtless, the only human being who ever joined in the fierce, mad, intoxicating revel of the Dum-Dum.
From this primitive function has arisen, unquestionably, all the forms and ceremonials of modern church and
state, for through all the countless ages, back beyond the uttermost ramparts of a dawning humanity our
fierce, hairy forebears danced out the rites of the Dum-Dum to the sound of their earthen drums, beneath the
bright light of a tropical moon in the depth of a mighty jungle which stands unchanged today as it stood on
that long forgotten night in the dim, unthinkable vistas of the long dead past when our first shaggy ancestor
swung from a swaying bough and dropped lightly upon the soft turf of the first meeting place.
On the day that Tarzan won his emancipation from the persecution that had followed him
re-  morselessly for twelve of his thirteen years of life, the tribe, now a full hundred strong, trooped silently through the
lower terrace of the jungle trees and dropped noiselessly upon the floor of the amphitheater.
The rites of the Dum-Dum marked important events in the life of the tribe—a victory, the capture of a
prisoner, the killing of some large fierce denizen of the jungle, the death or accession of a king, and were
conducted with set ceremonialism.
Today it was the killing of a giant ape, a member of another tribe, and as the people of Kerchak entered the
arena two mighty bulls were seen bearing the body of the vanquished between them.
They laid their burden before the earthen drum and then squatted there beside it as guards, while the other
members of the community curled themselves in grassy nooks to sleep until the rising moon should give the
signal for the commencement of their savage orgy.
For hours absolute quiet reigned in the little clearing, except as it was broken by the discordant notes of
brilliantly feathered parrots, or the screeching and twittering of the thousand jungle birds flitting
ceaselessly amongst the vivid orchids and flamboyant blossoms which festooned the myriad, moss-covered
branches of the forest kings.
 At length as darkness settled upon the jungle the apes commenced to bestir themselves, and soon they formed a
great circle about the earthen drum. The females and young squatted in a thin line at the outer periphery of
the circle, while just in front of them ranged the adult males. Before the drum sat three old females, each
armed with a knotted branch fifteen or eighteen inches in length.
Slowly and softly they began tapping upon the resounding surface of the drum as the first faint rays of the
ascending moon silvered the encircling tree tops.
As the light in the amphitheater increased the females augmented the frequency and force of their blows until
presently a wild, rhythmic din pervaded the great jungle for miles in every direction. Huge, fierce brutes
stopped in their hunting, with up-pricked ears and raised heads, to listen to the dull booming that betokened
the Dum-Dum of the apes.
Occasionally one would raise his shrill scream or thunderous roar in answering challenge to the savage din of
the anthropoids, but none came near to investigate or attack, for the great apes, assembled in all the power
of their numbers, filled the breasts of their jungle neighbors with deep respect.
As the din of the drum rose to almost deafening volume Kerchak sprang into the open space between the
squatting males and the drummers.
Standing erect he threw his head far back and
 looking full into the eye of the rising moon he beat upon his breast with his great hairy paws and emitted
his fearful roaring shriek.
One—twice—thrice that terrifying cry rang out across the teeming solitude of that unspeakably
quick, yet unthinkably dead, world.
Then, crouching, Kerchak slunk noiselessly around the open circle, veering far away from the dead body lying
before the altar-drum, but, as he passed, keeping his little, fierce, wicked, red eyes upon the corpse.
Another male then sprang into the arena, and, repeating the horrid cries of his king, followed stealthily in
his wake. Another and another followed in quick succession until the jungle reverberated with the now almost
ceaseless notes of their bloodthirsty screams.
It was the challenge and the hunt.
When all the adult males had joined in the thin line of circling dancers the attack commenced.
Kerchak, seizing a huge club from the pile which lay at hand for the purpose, rushed furiously upon the dead
ape, dealing the corpse a terrific blow, at the same time emitting the growls and snarls of combat. The din
of the drum was now increased, as well as the frequency of the blows, and the warriors, as each approached the
victim of the hunt and delivered his bludgeon blow, joined in the mad whirl of the Death Dance.
 Tarzan was one of the wild, leaping horde. His brown, sweat-streaked, muscular body, glistening in the
moonlight, shone supple and graceful among the uncouth, awkward, hairy brutes about him.
None was more stealthy in the mimic hunt, none more ferocious than he in the wild ferocity of the attack, none
who leaped so high into the air in the Dance of Death.
As the noise and rapidity of the drumbeats increased the dancers apparently became intoxicated with the wild
rhythm and the savage yells. Their leaps and bounds increased, their bared fangs dripped saliva, and their
lips and breasts were flecked with foam.
For half an hour the weird dance went on, until, at a sign from Kerchak, the noise of the drums ceased, the
female drummers scampering hurriedly through the line of dancers toward the outer rim of squatting spectators.
Then, as one, the males rushed headlong upon the thing which their terrific blows had reduced to a mass of
Flesh seldom came to their jaws in satisfying quantities, so a fit finale to their wild revel was a taste of
fresh killed meat, and it was to the purpose of devouring their late enemy that they now turned their
Great fangs sunk into the carcass tearing away huge hunks, the mightiest of the apes obtaining the choicest
morsels, while the weaker
 circled the outer edge of the fighting, snarling pack awaiting their chance to dodge in and snatch a dropped
tidbit or filch a remaining bone before all was gone.
Tarzan, more than the apes, craved and needed flesh. Descended from a race of meat eaters, never in his life,
he thought, had he once satisfied his appetite for animal food; and so now his agile little body wormed its
way far into the mass of struggling, rending apes in an endeavor to obtain a share which his strength would
have been unequal to the task of winning for him.
At his side hung the hunting knife of his unknown father in a sheath self-fashioned in copy of one he had seen
among the pictures of his treasure-books.
At last he reached the fast disappearing feast and with his sharp knife slashed off a more generous portion
than he had hoped for, an entire hairy forearm, where it protruded from beneath the feet of the mighty
Kerchak, who was so busily engaged in perpetuating the royal prerogative of gluttony that he failed to note
the act of lese-majesté.
So little Tarzan wriggled out from beneath the struggling mass, clutching his grisly prize close to his
Among those circling futilely the outskirts of the banqueters was old Tublat. He had been among the first at
the feast, but had retreated
 with a goodly share to eat in quiet, and was now forcing his way back for more.
So it was that he spied Tarzan as the boy emerged from the clawing, pushing throng with that hairy forearm
hugged firmly to his body.
Tublat's little, close-set, bloodshot, pig-eyes shot wicked gleams of hate as they fell upon the object of his
loathing. In them, too, was greed for the toothsome dainty the boy carried.
But Tarzan saw his arch enemy as quickly, and divining what the great beast would do he leaped nimbly away
toward the females and the young, hoping to hide himself among them. Tublat, however, was close upon his
heels, so that he had no opportunity to seek a place of concealment, but saw that he would be put to it to
escape at all.
Swiftly he sped toward the surrounding trees and with an agile bound gained a lower limb with one hand, and
then, transferring his burden to his teeth, he climbed rapidly upward, closely followed by Tublat.
Up, up he went to the waving pinnacle of a lofty monarch of the forest where his heavy pursuer dared not
follow him. There he perched, hurling taunts and insults at the raging, foaming beast fifty feet below him.
And then Tublat went mad.
With horrifying screams and roars he rushed to the ground, among the females and young, sinking his great
fangs into a dozen tiny necks
 and tearing great pieces from the backs and breasts of the females who fell into his clutches.
In the brilliant moonlight Tarzan witnessed the whole mad carnival of rage. He saw the females and the young
scamper to the safety of the trees. Then the great bulls in the center of the arena felt the mighty fangs of
their demented fellow, and with one accord they melted into the black shadows of the overhanging forest.
There was but one in the amphitheater beside Tublat, a belated female running swiftly toward the tree where
Tarzan perched, and close behind her came the awful Tublat.
It was Kala, and as quickly as Tarzan saw that Tublat was gaining on her he dropped with the rapidity of a
falling stone, from branch to branch, toward his foster mother.
Now she was beneath the overhanging limbs and close above her crouched Tarzan, waiting the outcome of the
She leaped into the air grasping a low-hanging branch, but almost over the head of Tublat, so nearly had he
distanced her. She should have been safe now but there was a rending, tearing sound, the branch broke and
precipitated her full upon the head of Tublat, knocking him to the ground.
Both were up in an instant, but as quick as they had been Tarzan had been quicker, so that the infuriated bull
found himself facing the man-child who stood between him and Kala.
 Nothing could have suited the fierce beast better, and with a roar of triumph he leaped upon the little Lord
Greystoke. But his fangs never closed in that nut brown flesh.
A muscular hand shot out and grasped the hairy throat, and another plunged a keen hunting knife a dozen times
into the broad breast. Like lightning the blows fell, and only ceased when Tarzan felt the limp form crumple
As the body rolled to the ground Tarzan of the Apes placed his foot upon the neck of his lifelong enemy and,
raising his eyes to the full moon, threw back his fierce young head and voiced the wild and terrible cry of
One by one the tribe swung down from their arboreal retreats and formed a circle about Tarzan and his
vanquished foe. When they had all come Tarzan turned toward them.
"I am Tarzan," he cried. "I am a great killer. Let all respect Tarzan of the Apes and Kala, his mother.
There be none among you as mighty as Tarzan. Let his enemies beware."
Looking full into the wicked, red eyes of Kerchak, the young Lord Greystoke beat upon his mighty breast and
screamed out once more his shrill cry of defiance.
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