KA-ZAR OF THE BEASTS

CHAPTER X
Ka-Zar, Brother of Zar

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HE death of his father marked a definite turning point in David's life. He had just turned thirteen at the time and in those few minutes late that afternoon, as he stood with bowed head at the fresh-filled grave, he definitely made the transition from boyhood to manhood.

He was on his own, now, alone in the heart of a vast and savage wilderness. The responsibilities to survive--the effort, the brain and the brawn and the cunning, devolved squarely upon his shoulders. No longer would his father make decisions for him; no longer would his father step to the front when danger was near. He was the master of his fate.

In most respects he was admirably equipped to survive against the terrible odds against him. In stature he was a man full grown, with a body superb and flawless. His muscles were as supple as N'Jaga's and he was as quick to strike as Zar when danger threatened. His eyes were as keen as those of Pindar, who sighted his prey from a mile in the sky. And save for the antelope, no thing that stalked the jungle had a keener sense of smell or hearing than he.

The jungle and the beasts that lived in it, he knew like the palm of his hand. He could swing swiftly through the trees like the apes; or with his nose close to the ground he was as sure on the trail as Sha, mistress of the mighty Zar.

All these things were in David's favor. But whether he had the savage heart, to kill without regret, was yet to be proved. Save in one respect. Fat-Face!

Hate clouded his vision as he stepped from the grave with Zar at his side. His judgments had never been schooled by contacts with civilization. His emotions had been completely decivilized by ten years in the jungle fastness. Of the things that belonged to civilized society he had no standard of comparison.

The fat white man had killed his father, brutally and without reason. Therefore there would be an undying feud between him and the white man and all the white man's tribe.

Until the blazing sun sank down behind the volcanic cone in the west, he hovered near the twin graves of his parents, the only humans he had ever known and loved. Manfully, mutely he struggled with his grief, blind to the life that flowed about him unruffled, unconcerned as if murder had not been committed in the clearing a few hours before.

And ever by his side strode Zar, watchful, wary, lest N'Jaga take advantage of the moment and strike the man-cub in his hour of blind grief.

In his simple heart Zar had some vague understanding of the emotion that filled the man-cub. He expressed his sympathy with an occasional rumble in his throat, at which times David would run the hard knuckles of his fist from the top of the lion's skull to the tip of his blunt nose.

The twilight fell and still David lingered near the graves. The lean-to that had been the only home he remembered, was now but a heap of ashes, He recalled the tent at the other camp. It was doubtless there, intact. But something deep within him rebelled at the thought of occupying the home of the hated white man.

Zar sensed his uncertainty. With a low, guttural call, the lion walked to ward the fringe of the jungle. Six paces away he stopped, looked back over his shoulder. Slowly David walked up to join him. But when he reached the lion's side, Zar moved off yet another half dozen paces.

Then David realized that Zar was leading him somewhere. He hesitated but a moment. The clearing held nothing but memories for him now. He made a whining sound to show that he understood, then keeping pace with his tawny friend, he followed him into the jungle.

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hey traveled swiftly and silently through the gathering darkness. But their journey was a long one and the moon was well up over the tree-tops when they reached their objective.

Screened as it was by bushes and an overhanging tree, David did not see the entrance to the cave until they were directly before it. A narrow space between two huge boulders, the opening appeared only as a blacker patch in the shadows. David had often searched for the lair of Zar and his mate and been unable to find it. Now, he came as an invited guest.

Zar halted, emitted a low growl. In answer, a tawny shape appeared in the opening.

When she saw the tall form beside her mate, Sha pulled back her lips and spat. Again Zar growled, deeper this time, and Sha subsided. Without another sound she moved backward into the shadows.

Zar stood still and looked at David. And the latter, knowing that he was expected to do so, dropped to all fours and crawled into the cave. The soft pad of Zar's footfalls followed him.

The rising moon sent its glow deeper into the opening and lightened the dark interior of the lions' lair to a drab grayness. Lying on the rocky floor, her narrowed eyes fastened unblinkingly on David, Sha again voiced her resentment. The female Is indeed more savage than the male. By the very duties Nature has imposed upon her, she is more selfish, more wary and more jealous. The coming of this strange man-cub to her sacred home, roused instant antagonism within her.

Zar growled his displeasure at her attitude. And David, quickly learning the meaning of the various inflections of their language, joined the conclave.

At length a pact was made between them. Sha reluctantly agreed to accept David as a comrade, but he sensed that it would be a long time before the last vestige of suspicion would be entirely erased from her mind. Zar, on the other hand, showed the full measure of his gratitude for the time that the boy had saved his life. He accepted David as a blood brother, a relationship that each solemnly understood would be broken only by death itself. And In the language that would henceforth be his own, David was given a new name. From now on he would be known as Ka-Zar, brother of Zar the Mighty.

With the new name, began a new life. Ka-Zar soon lost the few vestiges of civilization that had survived his stay in the jungle. Now he became but another beast, pitting his superior intelligence against the reign of claw and fang. The language of his dead father, he relegated to a dim corner of his memory. Each day he became more proficient in the guttural speech of the animals. He walked where Zar walked, drank where the lion drank and together they shared their kill. And side by side they slept in the cave that Zar had made his home.

The denizens of the jungle soon accepted him and his strange union with the lion. There were those who loved him and those who hated him. But love or hate, there was none who denied him the respect which was his due. This latter was true, at least, among those who lived in the vicinity. Since he had joined the lion, he had not seen Trajah the elephant, whose pilgrimages took him on long journeys. Nor Chaka and his tribe of great apes, also wanderers. Nor N'Guru the gorilla, whose haunt was the dense forest that covered the distant mountain peak.

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hough Ka-Zar had chosen the lion's cave in preference to the tent of DeKraft, he had not forgotten the belongings left by the white man. One day the reflection of his own face in a placid stream reminded him of the glittering mirror. The more he thought of it, the more he wanted it. And though he had not the faintest idea what good it might do him, he determined to visit the camp again and find it.

To reach a decision was to carry it out. He set off at once with his long, loping stride toward the distant spot. And at last, after an uneventful journey, he came to the stream where DeKraft had washed out the pebbles.

Profligate Nature had been at work. A tangle of brush and vines had closed in about the tent. Dampness and mould had rotted its fabric until it sagged, a shapeless, ugly, gray growth.

Some distance away, in the direction of his old home, Ka-Zar heard the crashing of branches. It told him that Chaka and his tribe of great apes were once more passing through the vicinity.

From inside the tent, too came a sound--the muffled stir of something moving about. Ka-Zar's eyes narrowed; he fingered the knife at his belt, that he had always kept keen and shining. That tent and all that was within it, was rightfully his. And he had no intention of letting anyone else despoil it.

Softly he crept forward, raised the sagging flap.

A huge, hairy ape stood with his back to the entrance. In one hand he clutched the precious mirror and it was evident, from his pose, that he was held fascinated by his own reflection within it.

As low rage possessed Ka-Zar, filling his deep lungs, he roared the mighty challenge of Zar.

Clutching the mirror, the ape whirled. From sullen, red-rimmed eyes he stared back at the strange two-legged creature in the opening of the tent. The roar of the lion, coming from this queer hairless animal, evidenfly puzzled him. But he showed no fear.

In the guttural language of the jungle, Ka-Zar demanded the mirror.

The ape's shoulders stooped over in a crouch. His broad nostrils flared. "Bardak found it," he answered.

Swiftly Ka-Zar measured his challenger. He did not know that Bardak, though of full growth, was young and the trouble maker of his tribe. But he could see that the ape equalled his own height and that Bardak's mighty chest and long arms were far more powerful than his own.

The realization came to him that here, in this small space, his weapons would do him no good. Out in the open, with the spear or the bow and arrows that his father had taught him to make and use, he would stand a chance. Caution told him to wait until the advantage was his. But despite his better judgment, Ka-Zar could not find it in his heart to evade the ape's challenge.

Drawing his knife, he repeated his demand for the mirror. And in answer, Bardak thumped upon his broad chest and gave vent to the bellowing war-cry of the apes.

It was too late to back down now. With the shining blade clutched tightly in his fist, Ka-Zar edged forward. Bardak flung the mirror upon the mouldering cot and stretching forth his long arms, came to meet him.

Instinct told Ka-Zar that once in the grasp of those terrible arms, he would be crushed and mangled. Side-stepping the ape's shambling rush, he staked all on a sudden powerful stab at the beast's unprotected side.

But Bardak's clumsiness was deceptive. Even as the sharp blade pricked his side, one hairy hand shot out and closed about Ka-Zar's wrist.

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he ape's fingers were like bands of steel. They tightened, and an agony of fire shot up Ka-Zar's arm. The gleaming blade slipped from his paralyzed hand and thudded to the ground. He braced himself as Bardak pulled him forward.

A momentary wave of awful hopelessness swept over him. Weaponless, in the cruel grip of the big ape, he faced a terrible death.

And then the spirit of his dead father came to his rescue. He recalled the tricks that he had learned on the occasions they had wrestled with each other. Suddenly he let his arm and body go limp. Then, in the instant while Bardak was bewildered by this unexpected lack of resistance, he broke free, grasped Bardak's long left arm in two hands and twisted it to a position between the ape's shoulder blades.

He was behind Bardak now and safe for the moment. And instead of the ape clutching his wrist, it was he who twisted the arm of the ape. With all the strength of his powerful young body he forced Bardak's hand up towards his thick neck.

In his battles with other members of his tribe, Bardak had known only the method of straining an opponent to his broad chest and crushing him there. He could use his teeth, too, but now he could only gnash them in helpless rage. This arm lock baffled him and he did not know how to break it.

Ka-Zar hung grimly on, pressing his advantage. He strained his powerful muscles until his heart and lungs threatened to burst. Slowly but inexorably, the ape's arm went up... up... up...

A liquid fire of agony ran down the length of Bardak's arm. His shoulder flamed with pain and a roar of rage tore from his lips.

Ka-Zar knew then that he had won. Another wrench--and Bardak the troublemaker would be crippled forever.

There was no reason for him to hesitate then. Mercy has no place in the wilderness. A foe vanquished is an enemy--and an enemy is slain. But something deep within Ka-Zar's heart stayed him and hardly understanding why, he rose above the laws of the jungle.

"Ka-Zar is your master," he panted in Bardak's ear.

And with a painful croak Bardak answered: "Ka-Zar is my master."

Releasing his hold, Ka-Zar took a long step backward. "Ka-Zar gives you your life. Go!"

The ape glared at him from red-rimmed eyes. Then nursing his throbbing arm, he shuffled from the tent.

Ka-Zar realized full well that he had spared a life--and gained a bitter enemy. But he knew that Bardak had no heart for further punishment just then. Dismissing the ape from his mind, he turned his attention to the matter that had brought him there.

First he recovered his knife, thrust it once more into his belt. The mirror followed it. DeKraft's other possessions held no meaning for him. He left them there. Let Bardak come back for them--if he dared.

Then, eager to tell Zar how he had mastered the ape, he set out once more for the cave.

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