CHAPTER VII

_Lord of the Jungle_

Apeman, never realizing that his actual strength was that of but a

puny human being, was racing with Ellen Estabrook into the very midst

of animals which would tear him to bits as easily as they would tear

any human being to pieces. Apeman, being but an ape after all, would

merely think that he was joining his own kind, bearing with him a mate

with white skin.

But to the other apes he would be a human being, a puny hairless

imitation of themselves which they would pounce upon and tear asunder

with great glee. Apeman would not know this: would not realize his

limitations. He would try to take to the upper terraces of the jungle,

to swing from tree to tree, carrying his mate--and would find the body

of Bentley incapable of supporting such an effort. Apeman would be a

child in the hands of his brethren, who could not know him. Apeman

could probably speak to them after a fashion, but his gibberish would

come strangely perhaps unintelligibly, through the mouth of Bentley.

They would suspect him, and destroy him, and with him Ellen Estabrook,

unless other apes discovered also her sex and took her, fighting over

her among themselves.

Bentley made good time across the jungle clearing. Behind him came the

voice of Barter in final exhortation.

"Your human cunning, hampered by your simian body, pitted against the

highly specialized body of your former self, in turn hampered by the

lack of reasoning of an ape--in a contest in primitive surrounding for

a female! A glorious experiment, and all depends now upon you! You

will save the girl who loves you and whom you love, but you must

return to me and be transferred before you can make your love known. I

shall wait for you!"

In Bentley's brain the shouted words of Barter rang as he hurried into

the jungle in pursuit of Apeman. Ellen Estabrook was crying: "Hurry,

Lee, hurry!"

* * * * *

Yet she was really yelling to Apeman, the man-beast which carried her,

bidding him race on to escape the pursuit of Manape, in whom she

would never recognize the man she loved. She must have thought that

Bentley had taken a desperate chance to escape the clutches of Barter,

and that Barter had set his trained ape to pursue them. What else

could she think? How could she know that she was actually in the power

of an ape, and that her loved one actually pursued to save her? With

every desire of her body she was urging Apeman to take her away from

Manape. But she must also have heard the challenges of the man apes in

the jungle ahead. She was looking back over Apeman's shoulder,

wondering perhaps if Barter would again come out to save them from the

anthropoids.

Bentley could guess at her thoughts as he raced on in pursuit of

Apeman.

Would he be in time? Even if he were, Apeman himself would turn

against him. If he were to try to aid Ellen she would fight against

him, believing him an ape. And how could he fight? Would his brain be

able to direct his mighty arms and his fighting fangs in a battle with

the apes of the jungle?

As he thought of coming to grips with the apes on equal terms,

something never in this world before vouchsafed to a human being, he

felt a fierce exaltation upon him. He felt a desire to take part in

mortal combat with them, to fight them fist and fang, and to destroy

them, one by one. He had their strength and more--he had the cunning

of a human being to match against the dim wits of the apes. He had a

chance.

But he must protect not only Ellen, but Apeman. Both Ellen and Apeman

would be against him. Ellen would fear him as an ape that desired her.

Apeman would fight against him as a rival for the favors of a she....

And he must harm neither. His own body, which Apeman directed, must

be spared, must be kept alive--while every effort of Apeman would be

to force Bentley to slay!

It was a predicament which--well, only Caleb Barter had foreseen it.

* * * * *

The bellowing of the apes was a continuous roar on all sides now.

Bentley felt a fierce sensation of joy welling up within him and he

answered their bellowing with savage bellows of his own. His legs were

obeying his will. His knuckles touched the ground as he raced on all

fours.

He could hear the shriek of Ellen there ahead, and knew that Apeman

and the girl were surrounded--that he must make all possible speed if

he were to be in time.

Apeman and his captive were on the trail, trapped there just as Apeman

had started into the jungle. Apeman had lifted Ellen so that her hands

might have grasped a limb; but the girl had refused to attempt to

escape by the trees if her "lover" remained behind. She had crumpled

to the ground, and Apeman, snarling, smashing his chest which was so

sickly white as compared to the chests of the other apes, had turned

upon his brethren. They hesitated for a moment as though amazed at the

effrontery of this mere human.

Then a man ape charged. Apeman met him with arms and fangs, and

Bentley saw Apeman's all too small mouth snap out for the vein in the

neck of Apeman's attacker. The ape whose brain reposed in Apeman had

been a courageous beast, that was plain. But he was fighting for his

she.

And he did not know his limitations. Apeman was bowled over as though

he had been a blade of grass, and the great ape was crouched over him,

nuzzling at his white flesh when Bentley-Manape arrived.

With a savage bellow, and with a mighty lunge, Bentley leaped upon

the attacker of Apeman. His arms obeyed him with more certainty now,

perhaps because the matter was so vitally urgent. Bentley's brain knew

jiu-jitsu, boxing, ways of rough and tumble fighting of which the

great apes had never learned, nor ever would learn.

* * * * *

He hurled himself upon the animal that was on the point of pulling

Apeman apart as though he had indeed been a fly, and literally

flattened him against the ground. His mighty hands searched for the

throat of the great ape, while he instinctively pulled his stomach out

of the way of possible disemboweling tactics on the part of his

antagonist. But the great ape twisted from his grasp, struggled erect.

And, amazed at what he was doing, surprised that he, Lee Bentley,

could even conceive of such a thing, he launched his attack with bared

and glistening fangs straight at the throat of his enemy. His mouth

closed. His fangs ripped home--and the great ape whose throat he had

torn away, whose blood was salt on his slavering lips, was tossed

aside as an empty husk, to die convulsively, a dripping horror which

was humanlike in a ghastly fashion. Bentley felt like a murderer. Not

like a murderer, either, but like a man who has slain unavoidably--and

hates himself for doing so.

Ellen was backed against the tree into which Apeman had tried to force

her.

Apeman was up now, moving to stand beside her. Apeman had discovered

that he was not the invincible creature he had thought himself.

Bentley moved in closer to the two, as other apes charged upon him

from both sides, smothering him, giving him no time. He was a

stranger, seemingly, an upstart to be destroyed.

And he was forced to fight them with all his ape strength and human

cunning, while Apeman, whimpering, caught up Ellen and darted away

with her, straight into the jungle.

For Bentley this was a sort of respite. Ellen was not afraid to go

with Apeman, thinking him Bentley. The great apes were bent on

destroying this strange ape which had come into their midst and had

already destroyed one of their number, perhaps their leader.

He must be destroyed.

* * * * *

Bentley fought like a man possessed. His arms were gory with crimson

from the slashing fangs of his enemies. His mouth was dripping with

red foam as he slashed in turn, with deadly accuracy. A great arm

clutched at the hair of his chest--and fell away again, broken in two

places, as Bentley snapped it like a pipe stem because he knew

leverages and was able to force his ape's body to obey the will of his

human mind.

One ape whimpering, rolling away to lick at his wounds; whimpering

oddly like a baby that has burned its fingers. A great ape weighing

hundreds of pounds, crying like a child! Yet that "child," with his

arm unbroken, could have taken a grown man, no matter how much of a

giant, and torn him to pieces.

Two other apes were out of the fray, one dead, the other with only

empty eye-sockets where his red-rimmed eyes had been.

Bentley guessed that Apeman had gone at least a mile into the jungle,

heading directly away from the dwelling of Caleb Barter. He must get

free and pursue. There was nothing else he could do. If he were slain,

Ellen was doomed to a fate he dared not contemplate. Apeman would

never be accepted by the apes because to all outward seeming he was a

man. His body would never stand the hardship of the jungle, yet Apeman

would never guess that, and would be slain. Bentley must prevent

that.

He must make sure that Apeman's body at least remained sufficiently

healthy that it could become his own again without the necessity of a

long sojourn in some hospital. Ellen must not be left alone with

Apeman, who was still an ape, running away with a she.

A ghastly muddle.

* * * * *

Now the apes broke away from Bentley. They broke in all direction into

the jungle. Some of them seemed on the trail of Apeman. One of them

took to the trees, swinging himself along with the speed of a running

man, flying from limb to limb with no support save his hands.

Bentley stared after the fleeing ape, and then gave chase. He felt

that the ape was on the trail of Apeman. Bentley did not know that he

himself could follow the spoor of Apeman, for he had not yet analyzed

all of his new capabilities. But while he was discovering, he would

follow something he could see--the fleeing ape, who would overhaul

Apeman as though Apeman were standing still.

So, in a manner of speaking, Bentley essayed his wings.

He took to the trees after the fleeing ape, and was amazed that his

great arms worked with ease, that he swung from limb to limb as easily

and as surely as the other apes. He climbed to the upper terrace,

where view of the ground was entirely shut off. His eyes took note of

limbs capable of bearing his weight--after he had made one mistake

that might easily have proved costly. He had leaped to a limb that

would have supported Bentley of the _Bengal Queen_, but that was a

mere twig under the weight of Manape. It broke and he fell, clutching

for support; and fate was kind to him in that he found it, and so

clambered back and swung easily and swiftly along.

In his nostrils at intervals was a peculiar odor--a peculiarly human

odor, reminding him of the work-sweat of a man who seldom bathed. He

knew that for the odor of Apeman, and a thrill of exaltation

encompassed him as he realized that he was following a spoor by the

cunning of his nostrils.

* * * * *

There was a great leap across space. The ape ahead of him made it with

ease. Bentley essayed it without hesitation, hurling himself into

space, all of a hundred feet above the ground; with all the might of

his arms--and almost overshot the mark, almost went crashing once more

through the branches. But the tree swayed, and held, and Bentley went

swinging on.

It was wildly exhilarating, thrilling in a primitive way. Bentley

remembered those dreams of his childhood--dreams of falling endlessly

but never striking. Racial memories, scientists called them, relics of

our simian forebears. Bentley thought of that and laughed; but his

laughter was merely a beastly chattering which recalled him to the

grim necessity of the moment.

Fifteen minutes passed, perhaps. Twenty. Half an hour. He was

following a trace which led away from the coast, and further away from

the cabin of Caleb Barter. But with his jungle senses, and his human

memory, Bentley was sure he could return when the time came.

Had Barter foreseen all that? Was Barter smiling to himself, back

there in his awful hermitage, waiting for the working out of his

"experiment"?

But Apeman had jungle knowledge, and must have forced Bentley's body

to the limit of its endurance, for it was near evening when Bentley,

who had lost the ape ahead of him, but had continued on the spoor of

Apeman by the smell, came to swift pause on his race through the

trees.

* * * * *

He had heard the voice of Ellen Estabrook, and the voice was pleading.

"Lee! Lee! If you love me try to regain control of yourself. Please do

not stare at me like that. Oh, your poor body! The brush and briars

have literally torn you to bits."

But the answer of "Lee" was a bestial snarl, and traveling as quietly

as he could, Manape dropped down so that he could gaze upon his

beloved, and the thing she believed she loved.

Ellen was unaware of him. But he had scarcely dropped into view before

Apeman became aware of him, and rose weakly to tottering limbs, to

beat his bruised and bleeding chest in simian challenge. Apeman was

simply an ape that had run until he was finished, and now was turning

to make a last stand against a male who was stronger--a last bid for

life and possession of the she he had carried away.

Then Ellen saw Manape, screamed, and for the first time since she had

been saved from the deep by Bentley, fainted dead away.

The two so strangely related creatures faced each other across her

supine body--and both were savagely snarling. Apeman weakly but

angrily, Manape with a sound of such brute savagery that even the

twittering of birds died away to awed silence.