Tarzan and the Silver Globe by Barton Werper

Author:Barton Werper
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction/Fantasy
Publisher: GOLD STAR
Published: 1964-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter VIII

"The Beasts of Tarzan"

JEDAK, of the great apes, alone was not in the caravan of beasts marching upon Opar. Indeed, his name carried with it a certain magic to those primates able to relate one event to another. Had not Jedak disappeared at about the same time as the appearance of the Silver Globe and the new scent, of death and decay, upon the air? It was true. It was well-known that Jedak was not to be trusted, that he challenged Tarzan whenever that white-skinned son of the tribe founded by the old she, Kala, long since dead, appeared in the village.

Jedak might have gone over to one of the other tribes of apes, or might even have founded his own tribe. He was not to be trusted, and Nendat was secretly glad that Jedak had gone away, whatever his fate. Jedak, however, was not roaming the Congo. Jedak was a prisoner, roaring his indignation against the silvery walls of his cage aboard the Silver Globe, a prime specimen for the collection of Glamo, the Venusian. On that planet, he would be placed into the public view for the admiration or shudders of the young Venusians who might or might not offer him succulent stalks of r=ril, purchased with their admission tickets. Of this he knew nothing, of course, and cared less. His somewhat limited mind wanted one thing - freedom. Freedom to again roam his jungle, with all its dangers, freedom to seek a she of mating age, to raid the bean and mealie plantations of the unsuspecting Waziri tribes. Jedak howled in rage, beat with enormous muscles upon the silver walls of the cage land, finally, opened a crack in the door. He sat back, sucking his bruised fingers, then cunningly inserted one under the silvery-grey edge, seeking to force it more open. He rumbled in his chest, even issued a low-pitched challenge, then pried with all his brute force.

It moved!

Only a little, but enough to encourage him. With a single-minded purpose, unmatched before in his brutish life, he explored the widening crack, applying sheer animal strength to it. The blood thrummed and throbbed in his temples as he pulled and pried. With a final surge of power, the bolt gave way with a "crack," and he emerged quickly, into a long, dimly lit corridor. His deep-set eyes turned both ways with an animal cunning, but there was no choice. Neither end of the corridor looked more promising than the other. With a snuffle, he turned to his right and made his way, sensing, testing the air. What was that? Something approaching? Quickly, he found a niche in the corridor, drew back into the shadows, waiting.

It was only a green thing, a priest of Opar. Almost contemptuously, Jedak reached forth and throttled it. The gnarled body fell to the floor as he released it, and I he almost gave the victory cry of the bull ape, then thought better of it. With a sly cunning unlike the

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