
By Edgar Rice Burroughs
Chapter 6
| The wanderings of the tribe
brought them often near the closed and silent cabin by the little
land-locked harbor. To Tarzan this was always a source of
never-ending mystery and pleasure. He would peek into the curtained windows, or, climbing upon the roof, peer down the black depths of the chimney in vain endeavor to solve the unknown wonders that lay within those strong walls. His child-like imagination pictured wonderful creatures within, and the very impossibility of forcing entrance added a thousandfold to his desire to do so. He could clamber about the roof and windows for hours attempting to discover means of ingress, but to the door he paid little attention, for this was apparently as solid as the walls. It was in the next visit to the vicinity, following the adventure with old Sabor, that, as he approached the cabin, Tarzan noticed that from a distance the door appeared to be an independent part of the wall in which it was set, and for the first time it occurred to him that this might prove the means of entrance which had so long eluded him. |
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|
He was alone, as was often the case when he visited the
cabin, for the apes had no love for it; the story of the thunder-stick
having lost nothing in the telling during these ten years had quite
surrounded the white man's deserted abode with an atmosphere of weirdness
and terror for the simians. The story of his own connection with the cabin had never been told him. The language of the apes had so few words that they could talk but little of what they had seen in the cabin, having no words to accurately describe either the strange people or their belongings, and so, long before Tarzan was old enough to understand, the subject had been forgotten by the tribe. Only in a dim, vague way had Kala explained to him that his father had been a strange white ape, but he did not know that Kala was not his own mother. On this day, then, he went directly to the door and spent hours examining it and fussing with the hinges, the knob and the latch. Finally he stumbled upon the right combination, and the door swung creakingly open before his astonished eyes. For some minutes he did not dare venture within, but finally, as his eyes became accustomed to the dim light of the interior he slowly and cautiously entered. In the middle of the floor lay a skeleton, every vestige of flesh gone from the bones to which still clung the mildewed and moldered remnants of what had once been clothing. Upon the bed lay a similar gruesome thing, but smaller, while in a tiny cradle near-by was a third, a wee mite of a skeleton. To none of these evidences of a fearful tragedy of a long dead day did little Tarzan give but passing heed. His wild jungle life had inured him to the sight of dead and dying animals, and had he known that he was looking upon the remains of his own father and mother he would have been no more greatly moved. The furnishings and other contents of the room it was which riveted his attention. He examined many things minutely--strange tools and weapons, books, paper, clothing-- what little had withstood the ravages of time in the humid atmosphere of the jungle coast. He opened chests and cupboards, such as did not baffle his small experience, and in these he found the contents much better preserved. Among other things he found a sharp hunting knife, on the keen blade of which he immediately proceeded to cut his finger. Undaunted he continued his experiments, finding that he could hack and hew splinters of wood from the table and chairs with this new toy. |
Frankenstein, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Wollestonecraft (Godwin) Shelley Boots and Saddles, the legend of General Custer. The Invisible Man, by H. G. Wells My Life on the Plains, by General George A. Custer David Crockett a man known to millions in his own lifetime. Call of the Wild the immortal classic by Jack London Wuthering Heights the original and still best gothic. The Seventh Man, by Max Brand. Bull Hunter by Max Brand The Virginian by Owen Wister The Life and Adventures of Calamity Jane, by Herself At The Earth's Core, by Edgar Rice Burroughs Riders of the Purple Sage, by Zane Grey A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens |
| For a long
time this amused him, but finally tiring he continued his
explorations. In a cupboard filled with books he came across one
with brightly colored pictures--it was a child's illustrated
alphabet-- A is for Archer Who shoots with a bow. B is for Boy, His first name is Joe. The pictures interested him greatly. There were many apes with faces similar to his own, and further over in the book he found, under "M," some little monkeys such as he saw daily flitting through the trees of his primeval forest. But nowhere was pictured any of his own people; in all the book was none that resembled Kerchak, or Tublat, or Kala. At first he tried to pick the little figures from the leaves, but he soon saw that they were not real, though he knew not what they might be, nor had he any words to describe them. The boats, and trains, and cows and horses were quite meaningless to him, but not quite so baffling as the odd little figures which appeared beneath and between the colored pictures--some strange kind of bug he thought they might be, for many of them had legs though nowhere could he find one with eyes and a mouth. It was his first introduction to the letters of the alphabet, and he was over ten years old. Of course he had never before seen print, or ever had spoken with any living thing which had the remotest idea that such a thing as a written language existed, nor ever had he seen anyone reading.
So what wonder that the little boy was quite at
a loss to guess the meaning of these strange figures. So close was he that there was no chance for
flight and little Tarzan knew that he must stand and fight for his
life; for these great beasts were the deadly enemies of his tribe,
and neither one nor the other ever asked or gave quarter. In fact he met the brute midway in its
charge, striking its huge body with his closed fists and as futilely
as he had been a fly attacking an elephant. But in one hand he still
clutched the knife he had found in the cabin of his father, and as
the brute, striking and biting, closed upon him the boy accidentally
turned the point toward the hairy breast. As the knife sank deep
into its body the gorilla shrieked in pain and rage. |
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson Looking Backward From 2000 to 1887 by Edward Bellamy Arizona Sketches by Joseph A. Munk ULLR UPRISING, an illustrated science fiction novel Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte which was one of the original gothics, and I believe it is still one of the best gothic novels ever written.
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Stone's funniest work so far. It is the obviously true
life story of how he cured himself forever of gold fever. |
|
The gorilla, fighting after the manner of its kind,
struck terrific blows with its open hand, and tore the flesh at the boy's throat
and chest with its mighty tusks. Click HERE for the next chapter |