KA-ZAR OF THE BEASTS

CHAPTER XIV
Jungle Mystery

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ILENT as the deepening shadows, Ka-Zar made his way back to the waiting elephant. He did not know man-made rope but it resembled the tough lianas that hung in festoons from the lower branches of the jungle trees. Now he understood why Trajah had been unable to free this hapless member of his tribe and had come to him for aid. And he knew that his gleaming knife would be able to accomplish what all the elephant's mighty strength could not do.

"Tuta will be free," he told Trajah.

The elephant tossed his trunk to show his pleasure. He took an eager step forward in the direction of the camp.

Ka-Zar barred his path on straddled legs. "Not now. We must wait until night comes. Then--" he drew his knife from his belt, tested its gleaming blade on his finger--"then I will steal into the camp."

Reluctantly Trajah agreed.

"We will not hurt the Oman," continued Ka-Zar. "I think they meant Tuta no harm. There is another matter, too. Other jungle brothers are held captive in the camp. We must help them, also."

Nono jumped up and down, happy to think that his forlorn brothers would also be freed. Tugging at Ka-Zar's arm, he begged to be allowed to help.

They waited, while the dusk deepened. Since the Oman had fire-sticks, they knew it would be fatal to attempt the rescue of the jungle beasts until the two-legged creatures had retired for the night. Not until the camp was quiet would they venture forth.

Ka-Zar warned the elephant that he must be content to wait where he was. If he moved in the direction of the camp, the noise of his coming would surely arouse the men.

With the rising of the moon, Ka-Zar and Nono returned to their vantage point in the big baobab. The wind had changed and their scent was carried to the captives in the cages. The leopard's head whipped up. The monkeys began a nervous jabbering, Ka-Zar risked a low, guttural call, commanding them to silence.

A black, scrubbing the cooking pot with handfuls of grass, heard him. But never dreaming that such a sound could have issued from a human throat, he continued with his work.

Ka-Zar's life in the jungle had given him a patience that matched his courage. Several times the men passed directly beneath him but not the faintest sound told them that something was watching them from the baobab.

The moon rose higher--an enormous orange ball that crept up, slowly from the horizon. It turned gradually to silver and its rays bathed the vast plain with a mystic, bluish light. The camp fire was piled high for the night and finally the last black crawled into a tent and vanished.

Ka-Zar had learned to be more than cautious. Ten minutes later his low note of warning floated softly from the tree. Then, with Nono, he swung down through the leafy branches and dropped lightly to the ground. First he circled each tent, his footfalls making no noise in the tall grass. He located each man within by the sound of his breathing and from the regularity of that breathing knew that they were all asleep.

Not until then did he rejoin Nono, who was crouching on top of the cage that held his brothers. For breathless minutes he explored the unfamiliar contrivance, seeking some way to open it. At last he managed to unfasten small ropes that held a sliding panel on one end of the cage.

Threatening the silly creatures with dire punishment, indeed, if they made a sound, he drew the panel carefully upward. The excited monkeys jammed at the opening, squeezed through and with Nono joyfully leaping ahead of them, scampered for the trees.

T

he big stork came next. Evidently it had been a prisoner for quite some time, for when Ka-Zar opened the door of his pen, he stepped out and looked about him in bewilderment. At last he realized that he was free. With a flap of his long wings he soared into the air and headed out over the plain.

Swiftly and silently Ka-Zar went on with his task. Quog made a straight rush into the darkened forest. The leopard lingered long enough to growl an acknowledgment to his strange rescuer, cast a baleful eye at the motionless tents and then vanished like a blacker shadow into the darkness of the night.

Tuta stirred restlessly at Ka-Zar's approach. He had to risk another warning to quiet her. Then with the sharp blade of his knife he sawed at each rope in turn until she was free. Fearful lest she should arouse the camp before they were well away, he 1ed her quite some distance along the edge of the grassy plain. Not until he was sure that they were out of earshot of the sleeping men, did he plunge once more into the jungle and take her by a circuitous route back to where Trajah patiently awaited them.

S

teve Hardy, big game hunter and wild animal collector, turned over on his cot. He woke suddenly from a fitful sleep and wondered what it was that had awakened him. Hitchihg himself up onto one elbow, he listened. No strange sound disturbed the stillness.

Still he felt uneasy. And finally it dawned upon him that it was the very silence that bothered him. Never had the camp been so still. Of the specimens that he had collected, there were several who complained about their captivity--all through the nights.

Pushing aside the mosquito netting that draped his bed, he thrust his feet into his boots. He picked up the flashlight that always lay within easy reach and got his rifle on the way out of the tent.

He did not need to click on the button of the flash. The moon bathed the camp with brilliant light, throwing the tents and the animal cages into sharp relief. And Steve Hardy was astounded to learn that the big leopard, his most magnificent specimen, was no longer behind bars.

Uneasily he glanced about him and to his dismay he quickly learned that the others had vanished likewise, while he had slept. He shouted and a moment later he was joined by his retinue of Ankwalla blacks, all instantly wide awake.

Quickly he pointed to the empty cages, hurling questions at them in their native tongue. But they were as baffled as he and as they thought about it, more and more terrified. Huddling at his heels, they followed him from cage to cage.

Hardy was beside himself with rage. The arduous labor of months, undone in a single night! His Ankwalla boys would not have done this--there would have been no reason for it. Surely no inquisitive monkey could have pried into camp and accidentally freed all his animals. The sliding doors were too heavy for a monkey to have lifted. The bull elephant that had called to the cow from the jungle--an elephant does not unfasten ropes... elephant ... elephant...

Suddenly Hardy looked up. His elephant, too, was gone!

The natives jabbered excitedly as they raced after him to the spot where Tuta had been tethered. Hardy dropped to one knee, picked up the rope still fastened to one of the stakes. And the bright moonlight revealed the startling fact that it had not been torn, but neatly cut in two!

Slowly he rose to his feet. An oath died still-born on his lips. Common sense told him that a man, armed with a knife had cut that strand of rope. But as far as he knew, no man--white or black--was within a thousand miles of his lonely outpost.

Why, in God's name, he asked himself, would any man release all his animals and vanish again? A madman? Madness would not have protected him against the ferocity of that huge leopard. He gazed about him, half-expecting to see a mangled lifeless corpse. But only alternate patches of shadow and brilliant moonlight marked the grass around the camp.

From deep in the jungle came the trumpet call of two elephants. And then, not far from his lonely camp, another challenging sound echoed out of the wilderness. It was the deep-throated, mighty bellow of a lion. It was, though Hardy did not know it, the triumphant call of Ka-Zar, brother of Zar, lord of the jungle.

While Hardy meditated, baffled and angry, on the mysterious evil that had visited him, his Ankwalla boys held a whispered conclave. Then headed by his gun boy, they marched up to where he stood.

T

heir leader explained that for some reason, the all-powerful gods of the jungle were angry. The spiriting away of the animals had been a warning to them all. Unless Hardy and the rest departed at once, they, too, would vanish as mysteriously and as silently as the beasts.

In vain Hardy argued with them. He had come many thousands of miles and had spent a considerable amount of money organizing this expedition. They must patiently begin their labors all over again. But he could not explain the startling events of the night and they would not listen to him. What dire fate awaited them when the jungle gods should spirit them away, they could only guess at darkly. But depart the Ankwallas would, and Steve Hardy, perforce, must go with them.

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