PhuePwint/jungle_book · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 78
It was after dark that the five men returned to the camp on the east
shore. The night was hot and sultry. No slightest breeze ruffled the
foliage of the trees or rippled the mirror-like surface of the ocean.
Only a gentle swell rolled softly in upon the beach.

Never had Tarzan seen the great Atlantic so ominously at peace. He was
standing at the edge of the beach gazing out to sea in the direction of
the mainland, his mind filled with sorrow and hopelessness, when from
the jungle close behind the camp came the uncanny wail of a panther.

There was a familiar note in the weird cry, and almost mechanically
Tarzan turned his head and answered. A moment later the tawny figure of
Sheeta slunk out into the half-light of the beach. There was no moon,
but the sky was brilliant with stars. Silently the savage brute came to
the side of the man. It had been long since Tarzan had seen his old
fighting companion, but the soft purr was sufficient to assure him that
the animal still recalled the bonds which had united them in the past.

The ape-man let his fingers fall upon the beast’s coat, and as Sheeta
pressed close against his leg he caressed and fondled the wicked head
while his eyes continued to search the blackness of the waters.

Presently he started. What was that? He strained his eyes into the
night. Then he turned and called aloud to the men smoking upon their
blankets in the camp. They came running to his side; but Gust hesitated
when he saw the nature of Tarzan’s companion.

“Look!” cried Tarzan. “A light! A ship’s light! It must be the Cowrie.
They are becalmed.” And then with an exclamation of renewed hope, “We
can reach them! The skiff will carry us easily.”

Gust demurred. “They are well armed,” he warned. “We could not take the
ship—just five of us.”

“There are six now,” replied Tarzan, pointing to Sheeta, “and we can
have more still in a half-hour. Sheeta is the equivalent of twenty men,
and the few others I can bring will add full a hundred to our fighting
strength. You do not know them.”

The ape-man turned and raised his head toward the jungle, while there
pealed from his lips, time after time, the fearsome cry of the bull-ape
who would summon his fellows.

Presently from the jungle came an answering cry, and then another and
another. Gust shuddered. Among what sort of creatures had fate thrown
him? Were not Kai Shang and Momulla to be preferred to this great white
giant who stroked a panther and called to the beasts of the jungle?

In a few minutes the apes of Akut came crashing through the underbrush
and out upon the beach, while in the meantime the five men had been
struggling with the unwieldy bulk of the skiff’s hull.

By dint of Herculean efforts they had managed to get it to the water’s
edge. The oars from the two small boats of the Kincaid, which had been
washed away by an off-shore wind the very night that the party had
landed, had been in use to support the canvas of the sailcloth tents.
These were hastily requisitioned, and by the time Akut and his
followers came down to the water all was ready for embarkation.

Once again the hideous crew entered the service of their master, and
without question took up their places in the skiff. The four men, for
Gust could not be prevailed upon to accompany the party, fell to the
oars, using them paddle-wise, while some of the apes followed their
example, and presently the ungainly skiff was moving quietly out to sea
in the direction of the light which rose and fell gently with the
swell.

A sleepy sailor kept a poor vigil upon the Cowrie’s deck, while in the
cabin below Schneider paced up and down arguing with Jane Clayton. The
woman had found a revolver in a table drawer in the room in which she
had been locked, and now she kept the mate of the Kincaid at bay with
the weapon.

The Mosula woman kneeled behind her, while Schneider paced up and down
before the door, threatening and pleading and promising, but all to no
avail. Presently from the deck above came a shout of warning and a
shot. For an instant Jane Clayton relaxed her vigilance, and turned her
eyes toward the cabin skylight. Simultaneously Schneider was upon her.

The first intimation the watch had that there was another craft within
a thousand miles of the Cowrie came when he saw the head and shoulders
of a man poked over the ship’s side. Instantly the fellow sprang to his
feet with a cry and levelled his revolver at the intruder. It was his
cry and the subsequent report of the revolver which threw Jane Clayton
off her guard.

Upon deck the quiet of fancied security soon gave place to the wildest
pandemonium. The crew of the Cowrie rushed above armed with revolvers,
cutlasses, and the long knives that many of them habitually wore; but
the alarm had come too late. Already the beasts of Tarzan were upon the
ship’s deck, with Tarzan and the two men of the Kincaid’s crew.

In the face of the frightful beasts the courage of the mutineers
wavered and broke. Those with revolvers fired a few scattering shots
and then raced for some place of supposed safety. Into the shrouds went
some; but the apes of Akut were more at home there than they.

Screaming with terror the Maoris were dragged from their lofty perches.
The beasts, uncontrolled by Tarzan who had gone in search of Jane,
loosed the full fury of their savage natures upon the unhappy wretches

It was after dark that the five men returned to the camp on the east

shore. The night was hot and sultry. No slightest breeze ruffled the

foliage of the trees or rippled the mirror-like surface of the ocean.

Only a gentle swell rolled softly in upon the beach.

Never had Tarzan seen the great Atlantic so ominously at peace. He was

standing at the edge of the beach gazing out to sea in the direction of

the mainland, his mind filled with sorrow and hopelessness, when from

the jungle close behind the camp came the uncanny wail of a panther.

There was a familiar note in the weird cry, and almost mechanically

Tarzan turned his head and answered. A moment later the tawny figure of

Sheeta slunk out into the half-light of the beach. There was no moon,

but the sky was brilliant with stars. Silently the savage brute came to

the side of the man. It had been long since Tarzan had seen his old

fighting companion, but the soft purr was sufficient to assure him that

the animal still recalled the bonds which had united them in the past.

The ape-man let his fingers fall upon the beast’s coat, and as Sheeta

pressed close against his leg he caressed and fondled the wicked head

while his eyes continued to search the blackness of the waters.

Presently he started. What was that? He strained his eyes into the

night. Then he turned and called aloud to the men smoking upon their

blankets in the camp. They came running to his side; but Gust hesitated

when he saw the nature of Tarzan’s companion.

“Look!” cried Tarzan. “A light! A ship’s light! It must be the Cowrie.

They are becalmed.” And then with an exclamation of renewed hope, “We

can reach them! The skiff will carry us easily.”

Gust demurred. “They are well armed,” he warned. “We could not take the

ship—just five of us.”

“There are six now,” replied Tarzan, pointing to Sheeta, “and we can

have more still in a half-hour. Sheeta is the equivalent of twenty men,

and the few others I can bring will add full a hundred to our fighting

strength. You do not know them.”

The ape-man turned and raised his head toward the jungle, while there

pealed from his lips, time after time, the fearsome cry of the bull-ape

who would summon his fellows.

Presently from the jungle came an answering cry, and then another and

another. Gust shuddered. Among what sort of creatures had fate thrown

him? Were not Kai Shang and Momulla to be preferred to this great white

giant who stroked a panther and called to the beasts of the jungle?

In a few minutes the apes of Akut came crashing through the underbrush

and out upon the beach, while in the meantime the five men had been

struggling with the unwieldy bulk of the skiff’s hull.

By dint of Herculean efforts they had managed to get it to the water’s

edge. The oars from the two small boats of the Kincaid, which had been

washed away by an off-shore wind the very night that the party had

landed, had been in use to support the canvas of the sailcloth tents.

These were hastily requisitioned, and by the time Akut and his

followers came down to the water all was ready for embarkation.

Once again the hideous crew entered the service of their master, and

without question took up their places in the skiff. The four men, for

Gust could not be prevailed upon to accompany the party, fell to the

oars, using them paddle-wise, while some of the apes followed their

example, and presently the ungainly skiff was moving quietly out to sea

in the direction of the light which rose and fell gently with the

swell.

A sleepy sailor kept a poor vigil upon the Cowrie’s deck, while in the

cabin below Schneider paced up and down arguing with Jane Clayton. The

woman had found a revolver in a table drawer in the room in which she

had been locked, and now she kept the mate of the Kincaid at bay with

the weapon.

The Mosula woman kneeled behind her, while Schneider paced up and down

before the door, threatening and pleading and promising, but all to no

avail. Presently from the deck above came a shout of warning and a

shot. For an instant Jane Clayton relaxed her vigilance, and turned her

eyes toward the cabin skylight. Simultaneously Schneider was upon her.

The first intimation the watch had that there was another craft within

a thousand miles of the Cowrie came when he saw the head and shoulders

of a man poked over the ship’s side. Instantly the fellow sprang to his

feet with a cry and levelled his revolver at the intruder. It was his

cry and the subsequent report of the revolver which threw Jane Clayton

off her guard.

Upon deck the quiet of fancied security soon gave place to the wildest

pandemonium. The crew of the Cowrie rushed above armed with revolvers,

cutlasses, and the long knives that many of them habitually wore; but

the alarm had come too late. Already the beasts of Tarzan were upon the

ship’s deck, with Tarzan and the two men of the Kincaid’s crew.

In the face of the frightful beasts the courage of the mutineers

wavered and broke. Those with revolvers fired a few scattering shots

and then raced for some place of supposed safety. Into the shrouds went

some; but the apes of Akut were more at home there than they.

Screaming with terror the Maoris were dragged from their lofty perches.

The beasts, uncontrolled by Tarzan who had gone in search of Jane,

loosed the full fury of their savage natures upon the unhappy wretches