Jan of the Jungle (22 page)

"In the meantime," said Trevor, "how are we to find Jan?"

"It is my opinion," replied the don, "that in order to find him we must locate this lost colony of Mu. No doubt he is well on his way to his adopted people by this time."

"I'll find it," said Trevor, "if I have to go over the entire South American continent with a fine-toothed comb."

As Jan, naked and unarmed, sprinted toward the temple ruins with the mob of hairy men in swift pursuit, he suddenly thought of the blowgun and darts he had left in an anteroom some time before. If they were still there and he could but get to that room in time he would give these wild men a surprise.

He dashed through the portal amid a shower of sticks and stones and made straight for his cache.

On reaching it, he found, to his delight, that the weapon and missiles were still there.

Quickly catching the blowgun and the quiver of darts, he loaded the tube and stood in the hallway, waiting. But to his surprise, not one of the hairy men came near. He stood there for some time, and though he could hear the shouts of the wild men outside the temple, he saw no one.

Presently he decided to take a look. He made his way to the portal of the building, cautiously watching for an ambush.

At the portal, he paused. Standing about fifty feet away was a large group of hairy men, chattering excitedly. They seemed afraid to come any nearer. Evidently they were fearful of some danger, fancied or real, in the temple ruins. Something within the building had evidently frightened them before. Perhaps the saber-toothed tiger which had formerly laired there had slain some of their companions. Jan raised his blowgun to his lips. Then he sped a dart at a big hairy fellow who towered above the others. The wild man fell without a sound, and the others stared at him in awed amazement.

Then one of them spied Jan standing in the entrance. With a loud cry of rage he pointed the youth out to the others. Jan dodged a shower of miscellaneous missiles and brought down another hairy creature with a tiny dart. The entire pack seemed about to charge him.

Suddenly he heard a familiar sound over at his right-the clatter of armored riders and the thunderous tread of their mounts. The hairy men heard it, too, and turning, scampered for the river. But few of them reached it for a troop of the Golden Ones came charging around the side of the ruins with lances couched, pursuing them relentlessly, spitting them on their shafts and riding them down beneath the thundering hoofs.

In the midst of the party rode Mena, Emperor of Satmu, resplendent in his glittering, richly jeweled armor. He caught sight of Jan standing in the portal, and dismounting, walked toward him.

"By the long hairy nose of Anpu!" he said, coming up. "How is it that we find you going about in the costume of a new-born infant? Where are your armor and weapons, and what is that odd-looking tube you carry?"

"My armor and weapons are at the bottom of the river, majesty," replied Jan. "I put them on a raft and went for a swim, but the hairy ones came and overturned them, chasing me into the temple where I found this weapon." He explained the use of the blowgun to the Emperor, and pointed out the bodies of the hairy men who had been slain by the darts.

"A curious and terrible weapon," said Mena. "I'm glad they are not used in Satmu. Leave it here, and come with me. Luckily, the mastodons carry some extra armor, arms and clothing of mine, so we can fit you out again. We'll dress you like an emperor for your triumphal return. You had me worried, Jan. Thought we would never find you. But to-day we came across the gnawed skeleton of the big sloth you killed, with your broken lance still wedged between its ribs, so I imagined that if you were alive" you would be somewhere hereabout."

"Permit me to thank your majesty for coming to my rescue," said Jan.

"It's all right lad. You came to mine once, didn't you?"

A big mastodon lumbered over at a sign from the monarch.

"Ho, slave!" he called to the driver perched on the woolly neck. "Make the beast kneel. We would get some wearables from that pack."

It was not long before Jan, fully armed and armored once more, was riding beside the Emperor on one of the three-horned mounts. The cavalcade entered Satmu shortly after dark that night.

Jan's return to Satmu was a signal for much rejoicing among its inhabitants, for he had the double distinction of being the Emperor's favorite, and the popular idol as well. Mena held a great feast in honor of the event, which lasted far into the night.

Jan said nothing to any one of his adventures in the jungle. His secret sorrow at Ramona's refusal to return with him was well concealed. Instead of moping about, he worked harder and played harder than ever before. By keeping busy he succeeded in covering up the longing that tugged at his heart.

But try as he would, he could not forget Ramona. He lived over and over again those hours spent in the patio, learning to speak, to write and to draw; and that one outstanding moment in his life when, with arms around his neck and warm lips close to his, she had begged him to take her away with him-to never leave her again.

Then he would wake to stern reality, and go about the business of trying to reshape his life.

THUS THE months passed. A new note of sadness was added when Chicma died of old age and rich living. Having been the pet of the Empress, she was given a royal funeral, and her mummy was laid away in a magnificent sarcophagus in one of the pyramidal mausoleums of the burial grounds of Re.

Like all popular idols Jan had his enemies. Chief among these were Samsu, High Priest of Set, and his craven son, Telapu, whom Jan had ousted. It was popularly conceded that the Emperor would name Jan his heir; but Samsu had other plans.

The black priest, however, was very crafty. Openly, he voiced only admiration for the Emperor's favorite. But several attempts were made on Jan's life. Assassins attacked him by night. Heavy stones mysteriously fell near him from house tops. Once he was near death from poison.

Although Samsu was suspected, there was never the slightest evidence of his guilt. But like all who plot in secret, he finally made a slip that exposed him.

Jan entered his room late one night, tired after a day's hunting. A slave was there to take off his armor, and another to prepare his bath. The room was fully lighted, and everything was apparently as it should be. Yet Jan had a feeling of uneasiness which he could not shake off. Something was wrong. A sixth sense seemed warning him that danger threatened.

Having bathed and donned his silken sleeping garments, he got into bed. One slave had taken his armor out to be polished. The other snuffed the fragrant oil lamps and departed, leaving him in darkness and silence.

Then Jan realized what had warned him of danger. Above the powerful aroma of the burning lamps, his jungle-trained nostrils had caught the scent of some one-a stranger-there in his room.

For some time Jan lay still, listening tensely. There was no unusual sound. He realized that whoever was in the room would know, by the way he was breathing, that he was not asleep, so he simulated the regular respiration of slumber.

A few minutes later he heard some one slip from behind a tall chest that stood in one corner and stealthily move toward him in the darkness.

Continuing his regular breathing, Jan reached for the heavy stone water bottle that stood on a tabouret beside his bed. Then, springing out of bed he hurled it straight at the shadowy form of the marauder. A thud, a gasp, and the sound of a heavy body falling to the floor, told him his missile had struck the mark. He leaped to the door, flinging it wide and admitting the yellow light from the flickering hall lamps.

A black-robed, shaved-headed figure lay upon the floor, moaning and choking. It was the priest Kebshu, first assistant to Samsu. Jan had seen him at court many times with the High Priest of Set. Near his hand lay a long, keen dagger, which he had dropped as he fell.

Some one came along the hallway, stopped in front of the door. Jan looked up. It was Sir Henry Westgate, his arms filled with dusty scrolls from the library. He dropped them, and taking a lamp from its bracket, brought it into the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What has happened?"

"Just another assassin of the Black One," said Jan, wearily. "I hit him with a water bottle and he doesn't seem to recover well."

Sir Henry opened the black robe of the fallen man, revealing a bloody bruise over the heart from which a fractured rib protruded.

"I am-dying!" moaned the man on the floor. "There is something-must confess-to Emperor!"

A sentry came clanking along the hallway, stopped, and entered the room.

"Go and ask the Emperor to come here at once," Jan told him.

The guard hurried away.

"Why did you try to kill me?" Jan asked the gasping man on the floor.

"Samsu-made me," was the reply. "Must obey-chief."

Sir Henry shook his head sadly.

Presently Mena arrived, a robe thrown over his sleeping garments. He bent over the recumbent priest.

"Well, Kebshu, you finally got caught in the act," he said, "and having the man, we can easily take the master.".

"Must tell-something, majesty," said Kebshu. "Bend lower-will not be here much longer."

"Go on. I'm listening," said Mena, stooping still lower.

"About your majesty's infant daughter. It was I-who stole her, for Samsu. He did not want-heir-stand between Telapu and-throne."

"Villain! What did you do with her?"

"Samsu put her in-floating basket, with-prayer to Hepr. I think that she-that she=" His weak voice trailed o$ to silence. A shudder ran through his frame. Kebshu was dead.

Mena stood up, solemnly raised his right hand, and said:

"By the life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, I swear that Samsu shall be chained naked on the Rock of judgment for three days without food or water, that the great god Re may do with him as his wisdom dictates."

Then he turned, and with bowed head, started to walk out of the room. But Sir Henry, who had been listening attentively, suddenly called:

"Majesty!"

The Emperor turned slowly.

"What would your majesty say if I were to tell you that your daughter is probably alive?"

Mena dropped his dejected air, fiercely gripped the wrist of the Englishman.

"What do you mean?"

Westgate told how Don Fernando had found Ramona in a basket.

"You must take me to her!" said Mena. "I will violate every tradition of my ancestors. I will wreck the barriers that shut us off from the outer world which we have not passed for thousands of years, if I can only find my little daughter!"

"That will not be necessary," said Jan of the Jungle. "I can find Ramona for you."

He opened his right hand, displaying the tattooed sacred lotus.

"This was copied from the palm of her right hand," he said. "She taught me to speak, to write, to draw. I begged her to come here with me, but she refused. I was hurt. For that reason I have never gone back."

"But you will go back now," said Mena.

"The Emperor's word is my law," replied Jan. "I leave at dawn."

Harry Trevor had left no stone unturned in his search for his lost son. Large parties of his men traversed the jungle from east to west and from north to south, looking for Jan and inquiring about the lost colony of Mu.

When, he saw that his quest might take months, or even years, Trevor brought a large tract of land across the river from the property of Don Fernando. Plans were begun for a palatial home. At the river front he prepared to install concrete docks and a large boathouse for launches, speedboats and canoes. He would also set out thousands of rubber trees, the nucleus of a plantation.

Dr. Bracken's lung recovered, and he again took charge of the jungle sector south of the Suarez plantation. The two Indians who were implicated with Santos in the kidnaping of Ramona had run away. But he kept the others at his base camp, and posted new guards at the tree hut.

Shortly after his arrival there, Dr. Bracken was seated in his cabin one day when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. With a start, he recognized Santos. The captain's appearance was much changed by a livid scar in the center of his forehead.

"You don' expect to see me again, eh?" said Santos, with a grin.

"One doesn't look for dead men to come to life," replied the doctor, "and you are officially dead. Sit down."

The captain seated himself on a folding stool and lighted a cigarette.

"Was only knock' out for leetle while," he said. "My two Indian come back for gat my gun. They find me sitteeng up. I 'ad stock the but weeth provision, so we stay there. But now I need some theengs. You are my frand. I come to you."

"You made a damn' fool move, kidnaping that girl when you did. But we'll forget that. I can use you if you want to take a little trip for me. I'll put you on a salary and pay all expenses. But of course you'll have to keep under cover."

"I do that, all right. What ees this trip?"

"I want you to go to Caracas for me, to get some things. I'm going to set a trap for Jan that he won't escape. The Indians fired their hypo bullets, all right, but Jan was evidently wearing gold-plated armor. Now this time I'll fix him. Here's what I want."

Closing the door so the Indians would not overhear, he hitched his chair close to that of the captain and gave him his instructions.

That night Santos left for Caracas.

SOME two months later the captain returned with twenty carriers, all heavily laden. All were paid and dismissed except the two Indians who had previously accompanied him.

During the following week, a circular trench about four feet wide and eight feet deep was dug around the tree which held Jan's hut. A few inches of the top soil and sod were retained, but all other soil taken out was dumped into the stream.

Then many copper wires were stretched about in the trench, after which it was covered with crossed sticks barely strong enough to sustain the earth and sod laid on them. Running from this trench to the doctor's cabin, slightly below the surface of the soil, was a concealed insulated electric cable.