Tarzan and the Ant Men · Chapter 9 (2/2)

“You have much to be thankful for, Gofoloso,” agreed the king; “but nothing compared to what will follow the success of my efforts to apply this principle of which we have been speaking, but with results diametrically opposite to those we have so far achieved; but we work upon it, we work upon it! Some day it will come and then I shall give to Zoanthrohago the formula that will revolutionize Minuni⁠—then with a hundred men might we go forth and conquer the world!”

Elkomoelhago now turned his attention suddenly upon the green-tunicked slave standing a short distance before him. He scrutinized him closely and in silence for several minutes.

“From what city do you come?” demanded the king, at last.

“O, All-Glorious Elkomoelhago,” spoke up the leader of the escort, “the poor ignorant creature is without speech.”

“Utters he any sound?” inquired the king.

“None since he was captured, Master of Men,” replied the warrior.

“He is a Zertalacolol,” stated Elkomoelhago. “Why all this silly excitement over one of these low, speechless creatures?”

“See now!” exclaimed Gofoloso, “how quickly and surely the father of wisdom grasps all things, probing to the bottom of all mysteries, revealing their secrets. Is it not marvelous!”

“Now that the Sun of Science has shone upon him even the dullest may see that the creature is indeed a Zertalacolol,” cried another of the king’s companions. “How simple, how stupid of us all! Ah, what would become of us were it not for the glorious intelligence of the All-Wise.”

Elkomoelhago was examining Tarzan closely. He seemed not to have heard the eulogies of his courtiers. Presently he spoke again.

“He has not the features of the Zertalacolols,” he pondered musingly. “See his ears. They are not the ears of the speechless ones, nor his hair. His body is not formed as theirs and his head is shaped for the storing of knowledge and the functioning of reason. No, he cannot be a Zertalacolol.”

“Marvelous!” cried Gofoloso. “Did I not tell you! Elkomoelhago, our king, is always right.”

“The most stupid of us may easily see that he is not a Zertalacolol, now that the king’s divine intelligence has made it so plain,” exclaimed the second courtier.

At this juncture a door, opposite that through which Tarzan had been brought into the apartment, opened and a warrior appeared. “O, Elkomoelhago, King of Veltopismakus,” he droned, “thy daughter, the Princess Janzara, has come. She would see the strange slave that Zoanthrohago brought from Trohanadalmakus and craves the royal permission to enter.”

Elkomoelhago nodded his assent. “Conduct the princess to us!” he commanded.

The princess must have been waiting within earshot immediately outside the door, for scarcely had the king spoken when she appeared upon the threshold, followed by two other young women, behind whom were a half dozen warriors. At sight of her the courtiers rose, but not the king.

“Come in, Janzara,” he said, “and behold the strange giant who is more discussed in Veltopismakus than Veltopismakus’ king.”

The princess crossed the room and stood directly in front of the ape-man, who remained standing, as he had since he had entered the chamber, with arms folded across his broad chest, an expression of absolute indifference upon his face. He glanced at the princess as she approached him and saw that she was a very beautiful young woman. Except for an occasional distant glimpse of some of the women of Trohanadalmakus she was the first Minunian female Tarzan had seen. Her features were faultlessly chiseled, her soft, dark hair becomingly arranged beneath a gorgeous, jeweled headdress, her clear skin shaming the down of the peach in its softness. She was dressed entirely in white, befitting a virgin princess in the palace of her sire; her gown, of a soft, clinging stuff, fell in straight and simple lines to her arched insteps. Tarzan looked into her eyes. They were gray, but the shadows of her heavy lashes made them appear much darker than they were. He sought there an index to her character, for here was the young woman whom his friend, Komodoflorensal, hoped some day to espouse and make queen of Trohanadalmakus, and for this reason was the ape-man interested. He saw the beautiful brows knit into a sudden frown.

“What is the matter with the beast?” cried the princess. “Is it made of wood?”

“It speaks no language, nor understands any,” explained her father. “It has uttered no sound since it was captured.”

“It is a sullen, ugly brute,” said the princess. “I’ll wager to make it utter a sound, and that quickly,” with which she snatched a thin dagger from her belt and plunged it into Tarzan’s arm. With such celerity had she moved that her act had taken all who witnessed it by surprise; but she had given the Lord of the Jungle an instant’s warning in the few words she had spoken before she struck and these had been sufficient for him. He could not avoid the blow, but he could and did avoid giving her the satisfaction of seeing her cruel experiment succeed, for he uttered no sound. Perhaps she would have struck again, for she was very angry now, but the king spoke sharply to her.

“Enough, Janzara!” he cried. “We would have no harm befall this slave upon whom we are conducting an experiment that means much to the future of Veltopismakus.”

“He has dared to stare into my eyes,” cried the princess, “and he has refused to speak when he knew that it would give me pleasure. He should be killed!”

“He is not yours to kill,” returned the king. “He belongs to Zoanthrohago.”

“I will buy him,” and turning to one of her warriors, “Fetch Zoanthrohago!”