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The son of The First Woman and his savage band escorted Tarzan to
the edge of the thorn forest. Further than that they could not go. A
moment later they saw him disappear among the thorns, with a
wave of farewell to them. For two days Tarzan, no larger than a
Minunian, made his way through the thorn forest. He met small
animals that were now large enough to be dangerous to him, but he
met nothing that he could not cope with. By night he slept in the
burrows of the larger burrowing animals. Birds and eggs formed his
food supply.
During the second night he awoke with a feeling of nausea suffusing
him. A premonition of danger assailed him. It was dark as the grave
in the burrow he had selected for the night. Suddenly the thought
smote him that he might be about to pass through the ordeal of
regaining his normal stature. To have this thing happen while he lay
buried in this tiny burrow would mean death, for he would be
crushed, strangled, or suffocated before he regained consciousness.
Already he felt dizzy, as one might feel who was upon the verge of
unconsciousness. He stumbled to his knees and clawed his way up
the steep acclivity that led to the surface. Would he reach it in time?
He stumbled on and then, suddenly, a burst of fresh, night air smote
his nostrils. He staggered to his feet. He was out! He was free!
Behind him he heard a low growl. Grasping his sword, he lunged
forward among the thorn trees. How far he went, or in what
direction he did not know. It was still dark when he stumbled and
fell unconscious to the ground.
 CHAPTER XXII
A Waziri, returning from the village of Obebe the cannibal, saw a
bone lying beside the trail. This, in itself, was nothing remarkable.
Many bones lie along savage trails in Africa. But this bone caused
him to pause. It was the bone of a child. Nor was that alone enough
to give pause to a warrior hastening through an unfriendly country
back toward his own people.
But Usula had heard strange tales in the village of Obebe the
cannibal where rumor had brought him in search of his beloved
master, The Big Bwana. Obebe had seen nor heard nothing of Tarzan
of the Apes. Not for years had he seen the giant white. He assured
Usula of this fact many times; but from other members of the tribe
the Waziri learned that a white man had been kept a prisoner by
Obebe for a year or more and that some time since he had escaped.
At first Usula thought this white man might have been Tarzan but
when he verified the statement of the time that had elapsed since
the man was captured he knew that it could not have been his
master, and so he turned back along the trail toward home; but
when he saw the child's bone along the trail several days out he
recalled the story of the missing Uhha and he paused, just for a
moment, to look at the bone. And as he looked he saw something
else—a small skin bag, lying among some more bones a few feet off
the trail. Usula stooped and picked up the bag. He opened it and
poured some of the contents into his palm. He knew what the things
were and he knew that they had belonged to his master, for Usula
was a head-man who knew much about his master's affairs. These
were the diamonds that had been stolen from The Big Bwana many
moons before by the white men who had found Opar. He would take
them back to The Big Bwana's lady.
Three days later as he moved silently along the trail close to the
great thorn forest he came suddenly to a halt, the hand grasping his
heavy spear tensing in readiness. In a little open place he saw a
man, an almost naked man, lying upon the ground. The man was
alive—he saw him move—but what was he doing? Usula crept closer,
making no noise. He moved around until he could observe the man
from another angle and then he saw a horrid sight. The man was
white and he lay beside the carcass of long-dead buffalo, greedily
devouring the remnants of hide that clung to the bleaching bones.
The man raised his head a little and Usula, catching a better view of
his face, gave a cry of horror. Then the man looked up and grinned.
It was The Big Bwana!
Usula ran to him and raised him upon his knees, but the man only
laughed and babbled like a child. At his side, caught over one of the
horns of the buffalo, was The Big Bwana's golden locket with the
great diamonds set in it. Usula replaced it about the man's neck. He
built a strong shelter for him nearby and hunted food, and for many
days he remained until the man's strength came back; but his mind
did not come back. And thus, in this condition, the faithful Usula led
home his master.
They found many wounds and bruises upon his body and his head,
some old, some new, some trivial, some serious; and they sent to
England for a great surgeon to come out to Africa and seek to mend
the poor thing that once had been Tarzan of the Apes.
The dogs that had once loved Lord Greystoke slunk from this
brainless creature. Jad-bal-ja, the Golden Lion, growled when the
man was wheeled near his cage.
Korak, the killer, paced the floor in dumb despair, for his mother was
on her way from England, and what would be the effect upon her of
this awful blow? He hesitated even to contemplate it.
Khamis, the witch doctor, had searched untiringly for Uhha, his
daughter, since the River Devil had stolen her from the village of
Obebe the cannibal. He had made pilgrimages to other villages,
some of them remote from his own country, but he had found no
trace of her or her abductor.
He was returning from another fruitless search that had extended far
to the east of the village of Obebe, skirting the Great Thorn Forest a
few miles north of the Ugogo. It was early morning. He had but just
broken his lonely camp and set out upon the last leg of his
homeward journey when his keen old eyes discovered something
lying at the edge of a small open space a hundred yards to his right.
He had just a glimpse of something that was not of the surrounding
vegetation. He did not know what it was; but instinct bade him
investigate. Moving cautiously nearer he presently identified the
thing as a human knee just showing above the low grass that
covered the clearing. He crept closer and suddenly his eyes
narrowed and his breath made a single, odd little sound as it sucked
rapidly between his lips in mechanical reaction to surprise, for what
he saw was the body of The River Devil lying upon its back, one
knee flexed—the knee that he had seen above the grasses.
His spear advanced and ready he approached until he stood above
the motionless body. Was The River Devil dead, or was he asleep?
Placing the point of his spear against the brown breast Khamis
prodded. The Devil did not awaken. He was not asleep, then! nor did
he appear to be dead. Khamis knelt and placed an ear above the
other's heart. He was not dead!
The witch doctor thought quickly. In his heart he did not believe in
River Devils, yet there was a chance that there might be such things
and perhaps this one was shamming unconsciousness, or
temporarily absent from the flesh it assumed as a disguise that it
might go among men without arousing suspicion. But, too, it was
the abductor of his daughter. That thought filled him with rage and
with courage. He must force the truth from those lips even though
the creature were a Devil.
He unwound a bit of fiber rope from about his waist and, turning the
body over upon its back, quickly bound the wrists behind it. Then he
sat down beside it to wait. It was an hour before signs of returning
consciousness appeared, then The River Devil opened his eyes.
"Where is Uhha, my daughter?" demanded the witch doctor.
The River Devil tried to free his arms, but they were too tightly
bound. He made no reply to Khamis' question. It was as though he
had not heard it. He ceased struggling and lay back again, resting.
After a while he opened his eyes once more and lay looking at
Khamis, but he did not speak.
"Get up!" commanded the witch doctor and prodded him with a
spear.
The River Devil rolled over on his side, flexed his right knee, raised
on one elbow and finally got to his feet. Khamis prodded him in the
direction of the trail. Toward dusk they arrived at the village of
Obebe.
When the warriors and the women and the children saw who it was
that Khamis was bringing to the village they became very much
excited, and had it not been for the witch doctor, of whom they were
afraid, they would have knifed and stoned the prisoner to death
before he was fairly inside the village gates; but Khamis did not want
The River Devil killed—not yet. He wanted first to force from him the
truth concerning Uhha. So far he had been unable to get a word out
of his prisoner. Incessant questioning, emphasized by many prods of
the spear point had elicited nothing.
Khamis threw his prisoner into the same hut from which The River
Devil had escaped; but he bound him securely and placed two
warriors on guard. He had no mind to lose him again. Obebe came
to see him. He, too, questioned him; but The River Devil only looked
blankly in the face of the chief.
"I will make him speak," said Obebe. "After we have finished eating
we will have him out and make him speak. I know many ways."
"You must not kill him," said the witch doctor. "He knows what
became of Uhha, and until he tells me no one shall kill him."
"He will speak before he dies," said Obebe.
"He is a River Devil and will never die," said Khamis, reverting to the
old controversy.
"He is Tarzan," cried Obebe, and the two were still arguing after they
had passed out of hearing of the prisoner lying in the filth of the hut.
After they had eaten he saw them heating irons in a fire near the
hut of the witch doctor, who was squatting before the entrance
working rapidly with numerous charms—bits of wood wrapped in
leaves, pieces of stone, some pebbles, a Zebra's tail.
Villagers were congregating about Khamis until presently the
prisoner could no longer see him. A little later a black boy came and
spoke to his guards, and he was taken out and pushed roughly
toward the hut of the witch doctor.
Obebe was there, as he saw after the guards had opened a way
through the throng and he stood beside the fire in the center of the
circle. It was only a small fire; just enough to keep a couple of irons
hot.
"Where is Uhha, my daughter?" demanded Khamis.
The River Devil did not answer. Not once had he spoken since
Khamis had captured him.
"Burn out one of his eyes," said Obebe. "That will make him speak."
"Cut out his tongue!" screamed a woman, "Cut out his tongue."
"Then he cannot speak at all, you fool," cried Khamis.
The witch doctor arose and put the question again, but received no
reply. Then he struck The River Devil a heavy blow in the face.
Khamis had lost his temper, so that he did not fear even a river devil.
"You will answer me now!" he screamed, and stooping he seized a
red-hot iron.
"The right eye first!" shrilled Obebe.

The doctor came to the bungalow of the ape-man—Lady Greystoke

brought him with her. They were three tired and dusty travelers as
they dismounted at last before the rose embowered entrance—the
famous London surgeon, Lady Greystoke, and Flora Hawkes, her
maid. The surgeon and Lady Greystoke went immediately to the
room where Tarzan sat in an improvised wheel-chair. He looked up
at them blankly as they entered.
"Don't you know me, John?" asked the woman.
Her son took her by the shoulders and led her away, weeping.
"He does not know any of us," he said. "Wait until after the
operation, mother, before you see him again. You can do him no
good and to see him this way is too hard upon you."
The great surgeon made his examination. There was pressure on the
brain from a recent fracture of the skull. An operation would relieve
the pressure and might restore the patient's mind and memory. It
was worth attempting.
Nurses and two doctors from Nairobi, engaged the day they arrived
there, followed Lady Greystoke and the London surgeon, reaching
the bungalow the day after their arrival. The operation took place
the following morning.
Lady Greystoke, Korak and Meriem were awaiting, in an adjoining
room, the verdict of the surgeon. Was the operation a failure or a
success? They sat mutely staring at the door leading into the
improvised operating room. At last it opened, after what seemed
ages, but was only perhaps an hour. The surgeon entered the room
where they sat. Their eyes, dumbly pleading, asked him the question
that their lips dared not voice.
"I cannot tell you anything as yet," he said, "other than that the
operation, as an operation, was successful. What the result of it will
be only time will tell. I have given orders that no one is to enter his
room, other than the nurses, for ten days. They are instructed not to
speak to him or allow him to speak for the same length of time; but
he will not wish to speak, for I shall keep him in a semi-conscious
condition, by means of drugs, until the ten days have elapsed. Until
then, Lady Greystoke, we may only hope for the best; but I can
assure you that your husband has every chance for complete
recovery. I think you may safely hope for the best."

The witch doctor laid his left hand upon the shoulder of The River
Devil; in his right hand was clutched a red-hot iron.
"The right eye first," shrilled Obebe.
Suddenly the muscles upon the back and shoulders of the prisoner
leaped into action, rolling beneath his brown hide. For just an instant
he appeared to exert terrific physical force, there was a snapping
sound at his back as the strands about his wrists parted, and an
instant later steel-thewed fingers fell upon the right wrist of the
witch doctor. Blazing eyes burned into his. He dropped the red-hot
rod, his fingers paralyzed by the pressure upon his wrist, and he
screamed, for he saw death in the angry face of the god.
Obebe leaped to his feet. Warriors pressed forward, but not near
enough to be within reach of the River Devil. They had never been
certain of the safety of tempting providence in any such manner as
Khamis and Obebe had been about to do. Now here was the result!
The wrath of the River Devil would fall upon them all. They fell back,
some of them, and that was a cue for others to fall back. In the
minds of all was the same thought—if I have no hand in this The
River Devil will not be angry with me. Then they turned and fled to
their huts, stumbling over their women and their children who were
trying to out-distance their lords and masters.
Obebe turned now to flee also and The River Devil picked Khamis
up, and held him in two hands high above his head, and ran after
Obebe the chief. The latter dodged into his own hut. He had scarce
reached the center of it when there came a terrific crash upon the
light, thatched roof, which gave way beneath a heavy weight. A
body descending upon the chief filled him with terror. The River
Devil had leaped in through the roof of his hut to destroy him! The
instinct of self-preservation rose momentarily above his fear of the
supernatural, for now he was convinced that Khamis had been right
and the creature they had so long held prisoner was indeed The
River Devil. And Obebe drew the knife at his side and lunged it again
and again into the body of the creature that had leaped upon him,
and when he knew that life was extinct he rose and dragging the
body after him stepped out of his hut into the light of the moon and
the fires.
"Come, my people!" he cried. "You have nothing to fear, for I,
Obebe, your chief, have slain The River Devil with my own hands,"
and then he looked down at the thing trailing behind him, and gave
a gasp, and sat down suddenly in the dirt of the village street, for
the body at his heels was that of Khamis, the witch doctor.
His people came and when they saw what had happened they said
nothing, but looked terrified. Obebe examined his hut and the
ground around it. He took several warriors and searched the village.
The stranger had departed. He went to the gates. They were closed;
but in the dust before them was the imprint of naked feet—the
naked feet of a white man. Then he came back to his hut, where his
frightened people stood waiting him.
"Obebe was right," he said. "The creature was not The River Devil—
it was Tarzan of the Apes, for only he could hurl Khamis so high
above his head that he would fall through the roof of a hut, and only
he could pass unaided over our gates."

The tenth day had come. The great surgeon was still at the
Greystoke bungalow awaiting the outcome of the operation. The
patient was slowly emerging from under the influence of the last
dose of drugs that had been given him during the preceding night,
but he was regaining his consciousness more slowly than the
surgeon had hoped. The long hours dragged by, morning ran into
afternoon, and evening came, and still there was no word from the
sick-room.
It was dark. The lamps were lighted. The family were congregated in
the big living-room. Suddenly the door opened and a nurse
appeared. Behind her was the patient. There was a puzzled look
upon his face; but the face of the nurse was wreathed in smiles. The
surgeon came behind, assisting the man, who was weak from long
inactivity.
"I think Lord Greystoke will recover rapidly now," he said. "There are
many things that you may have to tell him. He did not know who he
was, when he regained consciousness; but that is not unusual in
such cases."
The patient took a few steps into the room, looking wonderingly
about.
"There is your wife, Greystoke," said the surgeon, kindly.
Lady Greystoke rose and crossed the room toward her husband, her
arms outstretched. A smile crossed the face of the invalid, as he
stepped forward to meet her and take her in his arms; but suddenly
someone was between them, holding them apart. It was Flora
Hawkes.
"My Gawd, Lady Greystoke!" she cried. "He ain't your husband. It's
Miranda, Esteban Miranda! Don't you suppose I'd know him in a
million? I ain't seen him since we came back, never havin' been in
the sick chamber, but I suspicioned something the minute he
stepped into this room and when he smiled, I knew."
"Flora!" cried the distracted wife. "Are you sure? No! no! you must
be wrong! God has not given me back my husband only to steal him
away again. John! tell me, is it you? You would not lie to me?"
For a moment the man before them was silent. He swayed to and
fro, as in weakness. The surgeon stepped forward and supported
him.
"I have been very sick," he said. "Possibly I have changed; but I am
Lord Greystoke. I do not remember this woman," and he indicated
Flora Hawkes.
"He lies!" cried the girl.
"Yes, he lies," said a quiet voice behind them, and they all turned to
see the figure of a giant white standing in the open French windows
leading to the veranda.
"John!" cried Lady Greystoke, running toward him, "how could I
have been mistaken? I—" but the rest of the sentence was lost as
Tarzan of the Apes sprang into the room and taking his mate in his
arms covered her lips with kisses.
 Transcriber's Note:

Obvious typographic errors have been

corrected.

A Table of Contents has been added.

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