"The night you left, Spike and Troll stole the Gonfal and the great emerald and beat it. They took Gonfala with them. We have been hunting for them. The very first day we lost their trail in some rocky country. We never found it again. Some of our blacks thought they had gone to the south and west. We searched in that direction and got lost ourselves."
"The Gonfal and the great emerald are both gone? Well, perhaps it is just as well. They would have brought more unhappiness than anything else. Riches usually do."
"Hang the stones!" exclaimed Wood. "It is Gonfala I want to find. I don't give a tinker's damn for either of the rocks."
"I think we shall find her. It is not difficult for me to find anyone in Africa. But now I will have you shown to your rooms. You will find a bath and clean clothes; among them something that will fit you, I'm sure. When you are ready, come to the patio; you will find us there."
Van Eyk was the first to enter the patio, a flowering paradise around which the house was built. A golden haired girl lay on a reed chaise lounge, a copy of the Illustrated London News in her hand. Hearing him, she turned. Her eyes went wide in astonishment.
"Bob!" she gasped as she sprang to her feet.
"Gonfala!"
"Where is he? Is he all right?"
"Yes; he is here. How did you escape from Spike and Troll?"
"Escape from Spike and Troll? I was never with them."
"You went away alone? Why did you go?"
She told him then what she had overheard Spike and Troll say. "I knew then that I would spoil Stanlee's life. I knew that he loved me. I never thought that he wanted me just for the emerald. And I loved him. I loved him too much to let him marry me. Perhaps, when he had time to think it over, he was glad that I went away."
Van Eyk shook his head. "No, you are very wrong. I spoke to him of the matter; and here is what he said, as nearly as I can recall his words: 'I'd go through Hell for her. I'd live in Hell for her, and thank God for the opportunity. That is how much I love her.' I think those were about his very words."
Tears came to the girl's eyes. "May I see him soon?"
"He'll be out in a minute. Here he comes now. I'll go."
She looked her thanks.
When Wood came into the patio and saw her, he just stood and looked at her for a moment, devouring her with his eyes. He never said a word or asked a question-just-crossed to her and took her in his arms. Their voices were too full of tears of happiness for words.
After a while, when they could speak, each had the other's story. After that they knew that nothing could ever come between them.
In the evening, with the others, they were discussing their plans for the future. Wood said they would be married and go at once to America.
"I must go to London first," said Gonfala. "I have a letter to take to the Colonial Office there. You know, I told you about it. Let me get it. I cannot read it. I was never taught to read."
She went to her room and presently returned with the letter. It was yellow with age. She handed it to Tarzan. "Please read it aloud," she said. Tarzan opened the single sheet and read:
"To Whom it May Concern:
"I am giving this letter to my daughter to take to London to identify her if she is ever fortunate enough to escape from the Kaji. They killed her mother shortly after she was born and raised her to be queen of the Kaji. They call her Gonfala. I have never dared to tell her that she is my daughter, as Mafka has threatened to kill her if she ever learns that he is not her father.
"Mountford."
Chapter 13. Cannibals
A LOW SUN POINTED LONG shadows toward the east; the tired day was preparing to lay aside its burdens. Far away, a lion roared. It was the prelude to another African night, majestic as the king of beasts and as savage.
A party of eight men laid down their few belongings and made camp beside a water hole. Two of the men were white. Like their black companions they were armed with bows and arrows and short spears; there was not a firearm among them all.
Some of the men carried meat from the last kill, and there were two packages wrapped in skins. Beside their weapons, that was all. It was a poorly equipped safari, if it could be said to have been equipped at all.
The blacks were quiet, speaking in whispers as they cooked the meat for their evening meal. The white men were glum and scowling.
One of them nodded toward the blacks. "The beggars are scairt stiff."
The other nodded. "Cannibal country, and they know it."
His companion sat scowling down at the two skin wrapped packages for a long period of silence. "I'm a-scairt myself, Troll," he said finally. "Scairt o' these things. I think they's a curse on 'em."
Troll shrugged. "I could take a lot o' cursin' for six million pun."
"Yeh; if we get out alive."
"I ain't worrit about that. What I'm worrit about is runnin' into that bloke, Clayton. He'll take the rocks away from us."
"He went north."
"But he said he was comin' back, an' he said he'd know if we'd pulled anything crooked. I don't like that bloke."
They lapsed into silence, chewing on the half cooked meat of a tough old boar the blacks had killed the day before. From the forest, a spur of which ran down almost to the water hole, eyes watched them. Again the lion roared.
"The beggar's gettin' closer," remarked Spike. "I hopes he ain't no man-eater."
Troll fidgeted. "Shut up!" he growled. "Can't you think of somethin' pleasant for a change?"
"Bein' way out here without no gun'd make any bloke nervous. Look at them damn things!" He kicked his bow and bundle of arrows that lay at his feet. "I might kill a rabbit with 'em-if I could hit 'im; but I couldn't hit a elephant if he stood still at ten paces-and you know wot kind of a target a lion makes when he charges."
"Oh, fer cripe's sake, shut up!"
Again they lapsed into silence. The shadow of the forest covered them and stretched out across the plain, for the sun had all but set. Suddenly there was a frightened cry of, "Bwana! Look!" One of the blacks was pointing toward the forest.
The white men wheeled as they rose to their feet. Coming toward them were a dozen black warriors. Spike stooped to pick up his bow and arrows.
"Lay off!" warned Troll. "They ain't enough of us-an' anyways they may be friendly." Spike stood erect again with empty hands. One by one the blacks of their party rose slowly to their feet.
The strangers were approaching cautiously, their weapons ready. They halted a dozen paces from the camp, their grim visaged leader in advance of the others. He surveyed the two white men and their six bearers arrogantly, contemptuously. Troll made the sign of peace.
The leader strode forward followed by his warriors. "What you do here in the country of the Bantango?" he demanded.
"We look for guides," replied Troll in the same dialect. "Big safari behind us-many guns-they come soon; then we go. We wait here they come."
"You lie," said the chief. "My man one he follow you two days; then he come me. No big safari. No guns. You lie."
"Wot did I tell you?" demanded Spike. "They's a curse on us-an' look at them filed teeth. You know what them filed teeth mean."
"I told you it was cannibal country," observed Troll, lamely.
"Gawdamighty, I'd give both them rocks for a gun," moaned Spike.
"The rocks!" exclaimed Troll. "That's it! Why didn't we think o' that before?"
"Think o' what?"
"The Gonfal. We can use it like old Mafka did, just put a hand on it an' make any bloke do wotever you wants him to do."
"Slime! That's a idea. Make 'em get out o' here." He stopped and started to unwrap the Gonfal, the great diamond of the Kaji.
The chief took a step forward. "What you got?" he demanded.
"Big medicine," said Troll. "You like see?"