“I wish to preface the real object of my visit with a few words of
explanation,” commenced von Harben. “Erich is my only son. Four years
ago, at the age of nineteen, he completed his university course with
honours and received his first degree. Since then he has spent the
greater part of his time in pursuing his studies in various European
universities, where he has specialized in archaeology and the study of
dead languages. His one hobby, outside of his chosen field, has been
mountain-climbing and during successive summer vacations he scaled every
important Alpine peak.
“A few months ago he came here to visit me at the mission and
immediately became interested in the study of the various Bantu dialects
that are in use by the several tribes in our district and those adjacent
thereto.
“While pursuing his investigation among the natives he ran across that
old legend of The Lost Tribe of the Wiramwazi Mountains, with which we
are all so familiar. Immediately his mind became imbued, as have the
minds of so many others, with the belief that this fable might have
originated in fact and that if he could trace it down he might possibly
find descendants of one of the lost tribes of Biblical history.”
“I know the legend well,” said Tarzan, “and because it is so persistent
and the details of its narration by the natives so circumstantial, I
have thought that I should like to investigate it myself, but in the
past no necessity has arisen to take me close to the Wiramwazi
Mountains.”
“I must confess,” continued the doctor, “that I also have had the same
urge many times. I have upon two occasions talked with men of the Bagego
tribe that live upon the slopes of the Wiramwazi Mountains and in both
instances I have been assured that a tribe of white men dwells somewhere
in the depths of that great mountain range. Both of these men told me
that their tribe has carried on trade with these people from time
immemorial and each assured me that he had often seen members of The
Lost Tribe both upon occasions of peaceful trading and during the
warlike raids that the mountaineers occasionally launched upon the
Bagego.
“The result was that when Erich suggested an expedition to the Wiramwazi
I rather encouraged him, since he was well fitted to undertake the
adventure. His knowledge of Bantu and his intensive, even though brief,
experiences among the natives gave him an advantage that few scholars
otherwise equipped by education to profit by such an expedition would
have, while his considerable experience as a mountain-climber would, I
felt, stand him in good stead during such an adventure.
“On the whole I felt that he was an ideal man to lead such an
expedition, and my only regret was that I could not accompany him, but
this was impossible at the time. I assisted him in every way possible in
the organization of his safari and in equipping and provisioning it.
“He has not been gone a sufficient length of time to accomplish any
considerable investigation and return to the mission, but recently a few
of the members of his safari were reported to me as having returned to
their villages. When I sought to interview them they avoided me, but
rumours reached me that convinced me that all was not well with my son.
I therefore determined to organize a relief expedition, but in all my
district I could find only these few men who dared accompany me to the
Wiramwazi Mountains, which, their legends assure them, are inhabited by
malign spirits—for, as you know, they consider The Lost Tribe of the
Wiramwazi to be a band of bloodthirsty ghosts. It became evident to me
that the deserters of Erich’s safari had spread terror through the
district.
“Under the circumstances I was compelled to look elsewhere for help and
naturally I turned, in my perplexity, to Tarzan, Lord of the
Jungle. . . . Now you know why I am here.”
“I will help you, Doctor,” said Tarzan, after the other had concluded.
“Good!” exclaimed von Harben; “but I knew that you would. You have about
twenty men here, I should judge, and I have about fourteen. My men can
act as carriers, while yours, who are acknowledged to be the finest
fighting men in Africa, can serve as askaris. With you to guide us we
can soon pick up the trail and with such a force, small though it be,
there is no country that we cannot penetrate.”
Tarzan shook his head. “No, Doctor,” he said, “I shall go alone. That is
always my way. Alone I may travel much more rapidly and when I am alone
the jungle holds no secrets from me—I shall be able to obtain more
information along the way than would be possible were I accompanied by
others. You know the jungle people consider me as one of themselves.
They do not run away from me as they would from you and these blacks.”
“You know best,” said von Harben. “I should like to accompany you. I
should like to feel that I am doing my share, but if you say no I can
only abide by your decision.”
“Return to your mission, Doctor, and wait there until you hear from me.”
“And in the morning you leave for the Wiramwazi Mountains?” asked von
Harben.
“I leave at once,” said the ape-man.
“But it is already dark,” objected von Harben.
“There is a full moon and I wish to take advantage of it,” explained the
other. “I can lie up in the heat of the day for what rest I need.” He
turned and called Muviro to him. “Return home with my warriors, Muviro,”
he instructed, “and hold every fighting man of the Waziri in readiness
in the event that I find it necessary to send for you.”
“Yes, Bwana,” replied Muviro; “and how long shall we wait for a message
before we set out for the Wiramwazi Mountains in search for you?”
“I shall take Nkima with me and if I need you I shall send him back to
fetch and to guide you.”
“Yes, Bwana,” replied Muviro. “They will be in readiness—all the
fighting men of the Waziri. Their weapons will be at hand by day and by
night and fresh war-paint will be ready in every pot.”
Tarzan swung his bow and his quiver of arrows across his back. Over his
left shoulder and under his right arm lay the coils of his grass rope
and at his hip dangled the hunting-knife of his long-dead sire. He
picked up his short spear and stood for a moment with head up, sniffing
the breeze. The firelight played upon his bronzed skin.
For a moment he stood thus, every sense alert. Then he called to Nkima
in the tongue of the ape folk and as the little monkey scampered toward
him, Tarzan of the Apes turned without a word of farewell and moved
silently off into the jungle, his lithe carriage, his noiseless tread,
his majestic mien suggesting to the mind of von Harben, a
personification of another mighty jungle animal, Numa the lion, king of
beasts.
CHAPTER TWO
ERICH VON HARBEN stepped from his tent upon the slopes of the Wiramwazi
Mountains to look upon a deserted camp.
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