Ra-Man, graciously indicating that Charley should lead the way, turned back with a smile. “Yeti,” he said. “Quite young. It is excellent, isn’t it?”

  Al felt a knot in his stomach, and very narrowly escaped committing an outrageous social blunder. All about them the amphitheatre was filled with the same type of people as the queen and her suzerain. They were laughing, apparently placing wagers on whatever was to happen next, and feasting from apparently inexhaustible supplies of delicacies. “Look like Egyptians, by Georgel” Freddy Keys-Smythe said. “Amazing!”

  Al took a drink of the liquor, coughed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He’d only been half-listening. “What?”

  “I do believe we’ve stumbled upon a lost tribe of Egyptians,” Freddy breathed.

  “Stumbled upon? We were bloody well had, old man!”

  “No matter.” Freddy was impatient of details. “That would explain so many things. Take a look at that golden headband of the queen’s. See? A golden asp. Aha! Just what Cleopatra is reliably reported to have habitually worn. Note her costume-”

  “Or lack of it,” Al interjected.

  “-gossamer skirt, anklets, sandals. Bare breasts.”

  “I noticed,” Al said. “I assure you that I noticed.”

  “Definitely Egyptian. Why, man, this is the greatest find since-well, there’s really no comparison. Just think of it. A living slice of Egypt as she was thousands upon thousands of years ago! Just wait until I get some photos of this. Perhaps some tape recordings of their speech.”

  Al looked at Freddy with what was a genuine sympathy. “Fred, old man, you don’t think for a moment that we’re getting out of this alive, do you?”

  “I don’t understand what you…”

  At that moment, there was the blast of a curious trumpet, and the gates at one end of the arena swung open. Three giant slaves, armed with scimitars, entered, crossed to the box of the queen and saluted. They wore no armor, and except for short breechclouts, were nude. Their bodies glistened in the flickering lights of the torches that lit the battleground.

  The men must have averaged seven feet each in height and were extraordinarily well-muscled. Now the trumpet blew again, and from the other end of the arena, through a great door, entered a yeti. The beast carried no weapons. It looked with strangely intelligent eyes at the screaming assemblage and its uncannily human-like face seemed almost wistful. It dwarfed the three men, standing a good three feet taller than the tallest of the trio. As yet it made no move, other than its initial entrance. Al nudged Freddy, nodded toward the royal box. Charley was unhappily seated beside the queen, who was clutching his arm with a talon-like grasp, licking her lips in evil anticipation of the slaughter that was about to take place on the arena floor. Freddy shook his head, returning his own attention to the spectacle.

  Now the yeti advanced slowly, regarding each of its opponents warily. As its muscles rippled, old scars showed beneath the heavy fur. This was apparently a veteran fighter. The slaves, as if at a prearranged plan, separated. One moved to the left of the slowly advancing beast, another to the right, while the third slipped around the arena until he was behind. Now the yeti stopped in its tracks, as if in indecision, glancing in turn at all three of its attackers. Brandishing their giant, deadly, curved scimitars, the three slaves started to close in, a step at a time, upon the beast. The yeti made a sound between a grunt and a whistle, took one step toward an advancing slave, then whirled and charged the slave creeping up on him from behind. A sweep of its giant paw, and that slave’s scimitar went whistling off across the arena, and the slave himself screamed in agony, his useless arm dangling, broken. Without pause, the yeti charged still another slave, sustaining a mighty blow of the scimitar. Seemingly immune to pain, it wrapped both massive arms about its victim, and squeezed just once. It was holding a lifeless corpse! And now, the beast flung the body in its arms at the third slave, knocking him sprawling, then raced to him and stomped on his prostrate form, literally crushing the life from his body!

  The slave with the broken arm was on his knees before the queen, begging for mercy. The yeti, bleeding horribly from the cut that had been inflicted upon it, but seemingly insensate to the pain, waddled quietly across the arena, paying no heed to the imploring man, but watching the face of the queen intently. Freddy and Al stared with horror-stricken fascination as a sneer came to her face. She made a slashing motion with her hand, and the yeti calmly readied forward and broke the man a neck, much as one would kill a rabbit. The mob cheered, and the queen sank back, appearing drained and exhausted. She beckoned imperiously to Charley, who handed her a golden goblet from which she quaffed deeply.

  Still bleeding, the yeti paced about the arena, picking up all three bodies, and carried them out through the door through which it had entered. More slaves entered, sprinkling sand over the bloody spots in the arena.

  Freddy and Al sat silent for a moment. “Quite a show,” Freddy said, finally.

  “Umm. Wonder when we’ll be the feature attraction? I almost envy Charley. I think.” It was only a matter of moments before Al had his answer.

  Ra-Man came back to their box, whispered for them to follow him. Out of the arena, they made their way down silent passageways. They re-entered their quarters, accompanied by the queen’s man and a pair of guards.

  “What now?” Al asked, reaching for the bottle that was still waiting there, and pouring himself a stiff drink. “Instant courage!” He gravely advised Freddy. “Better have some yourself. I think we’re in for an interesting session.”

  Ra-Man smiled. “Her Majesty wished to see you two go against a very small yeti. What would you like for weapons? Scimitars? Spears?”

  “I don’t suppose you have a little thing known as a machine gun, do you? I thought not. Too bad. Cheer up, Freddy. I think I’ll have a spear or so, Ra-Man. Oh, by the way, what happens to our pal? Good old Charley?”

  “He is to be, as I understand it, the new prince consort. It is not a … comfortable title, and has been held by many. Usually,” Ra-Man added, practically, “for a very short time. Ak-Ahmen is a very wicked queen. I could wish that something might happen to … but I talk too much, and loose talk means death. I believe you gentlemen really have the best of it. If you survive, you will receive great honors. Your friend will receive the honors first, and then … well. I will have a slave fetch your weapons. You’re to be ready in a few moments. Remember to salute the queen. She’s been known to get stuffy about such an oversight. Good luck. And it’s only to be a very small yeti.”

  “Thanks,” Keys-Smythe said bitterly. “Thanks loads.”

  Miles away from this scene, a lone figure raced across the veldt taking to the trees when there were trees, eating up ground at a deceptively mile-consuming lope where there were none. Close observation would have shown that this lone figure carried a Mannlicher sporting rifle and a bandoleer of cartridges. In point of fact, there was considerable travel across the veldt on the trail to Kilimanjaro.

  First, Jane and the pack of great apes, flying through the trees in response to Basuli’s summons. Then came a party of Waziri scouts, at a dog trot, then the three motor vehicles, making tough going of it in the night, but still making forward progress. And, of course, well behind everyone, that lone figure, racing through the night.

  Chapter 11

  THE WRATH OF TARZAN

  JANE and the great apes were first to reach Tarzan’s aircraft. It was just breaking dawn, and the light, feeble as the first rays appeared, was filtered through a heavy ground fog that made distances deceptive and lent an eerie, half-world character to the scene. Also, now that she’d ceased her race through the night, Jane found she was cold, very cold, attired only in her scanty garment of the finest deerskin.

  Basuli opened the door to the cockpit of the plane and climbed out. “My runner reached you, then?”

  “Yes. The others will be here shortly. The mangani, the apes, came with me. What can we do?”

  Basuli shook his head. “I know not. I have been up to the wrecked aircraft of the Englishmen, which is where Tarzan, He Who Stinks and Jedak leaped from our aircraft, but saw nothing but a snow-covered slope, and some tracks in the snow. I sense great danger, lady. Surely the Englishmen would not have gone ahead up the mountain without their equipment, is it not so? Also I thought I …” He broke off, staring at the mountain.

  “What?” prompted Jane. “You thought you what?”

  Basuli shook his head unhappily. “I thought I saw a creature high up on the slope. At first I thought it might be Jedak returning with a message for me, and so I waited as it started down the slope to me. It was not an ape, although it was covered with hair. It made a strange whistling noise. Mistress, I ran. I, Basuli, ran!”

  “The yeti!” Jane exclaimed. She’d only half-believed in their existence, but now there could be no doubt. Nor was there any doubt that her mate was in great danger. She looked over her shoulder at the great apes who were standing at a little distance. No yeti, she was sure, could stand against the combined brute force of the band of apes. A gleam came to her eye. “We shall go on to the wrecked airplane,” she told Basuli. “Wait here, and when the others come up, your Waziri, send them after us, and when the vehicles come up, send them along, too. It should be only a matter of an hour or so. We go ahead to scout the way and decide what must be done.”

  “But, mistress…” Basuli started to plead. It was too late for him to finish whatever he was going to say, because Jane had leaped away down the trail and the great apes followed. The Waziri chieftain frowned. He didn’t know what a yeti might be, but he knew there was something evil on the snowy slopes of Kilimanjaro. Anxiously he scanned the horizon for a glimpse of his Waziri, who should be appearing at any moment.

  Capturing Tarzan was one thing; keeping the ape-man captive was something else again. The reception of the second three men was markedly different from that afforded the first group. Tarzan, Teemu and Jedak were unceremoniously thrust into what was evidently a cage designed to hold the untamed yeti, for it was immediately apparent to Tarzan that there were two kinds of the Abominable Snowmen. Those who were disciplined and those who were wild. These latter were confined in just such cages as that the three men now inhabited. There was a continual cacophony of grunts, whistles, and an occasional scream of anger as they fought among an occasional scream of anger as they fought among themselves. The stench was almost overpowering, something like that of a charnel house. Jedak repeatedly shook his head, snorting, trying futilely to rid his nostrils of the awful smell. Even Teemu, the Sherpa, himself no bed of roses, visibly paled. After tossing the men in the pen, the yeti were replaced by a single human, a guard, who apparently was in charge of the wild yeti stockade. He carelessly shot a bolt to lock them in, then walked away muttering to himself. Apparently, Tarzan thought, he would have to report their presence. Tarzan stripped off his heavy clothing, stood only in his loincloth. He picked up his bow and quiver of arrows which the yeti had apparently not regarded as a weapon, felt at his side to make sure he still had his knife, and looked with grim amusement at Jedak. “I think we shall go pay a visit,” he said. Jedak snarled agreement. Tarzan reached through the bars of their cell door, unlatched the bolt. If was such a simple arrangement, he could not but wonder at its purpose at all, then he realized that the yeti did not have fingers, but paws, and the bolt required the use of fingers. As simple as that. He swung the door open cautiously, saw no one, and beckoned the ape and the Sherpa to follow him. Jedak bared his yellow fangs in a snarl, furious and savage, ready to fight, to kill, to die if must be. Teemu was a guide, not a warrior, but he followed. Mainly because there was nothing else to do.

  Patricia sat huddled next to Arthur Burke as the small caravan made its way through the night. A faint glow on the horizon indicated that morning was very nearly breaking and Burke heaved a sigh of relief. He was bone-tired and not in the best of moods. Patricia was half-awake, half-asleep. A sudden jolt as the Land Rover hit a chuckhole brought her suddenly to full consciousness. The first birds were twittering and crying in the first pale light of the sun, and off in the jungle which they were skirting, monkeys started their day-long chattering and fighting among themselves. A feeding lion raised its huge head, jaws dripping with blood from its kill of the night, but after staring at them with bright yellow eyes for a moment, returned to its feeding. Patricia shuddered.

  “A bit spooked, old girl? Well, if it’s any consolation, so am I. Not just this,” and he waved his hand to indicate the jungle and its denizens, “but I have a strange feeling, somewhere down in the pit of my stomach, that there’s big, really big trouble ahead. Think of Lady Greystoke taking off in the trees like a blasted monkey! Wait until London reads that tomorrow!”

  “Arthur, you didn’t!”

  “But of course I did. I’m here to get a story, and a story I’m going to turn in. That bit about her ladyship will certainly jolt any number of old dowagers in Mayfair! And why not? She did do it, didn’t she? We saw it with our own eyes, didn’t we? One reports the facts, Patricia. Your dad would expect no less of me.”

  They rode in silence for a little while. “Arthur, did you really turn in that other story-about Lord Greystoke’s feudal estate and the natives working for nothing?”

  “I did. After I’d shown it to his blasted lordship. I told you I was going to do as much. Did you really expect me not to do it?”

  The girl sighed. “No. I suppose not. But much of what you used was based on information given me by Lady Greystoke. Didn’t Lord Greystoke object?”

  Arthur snorted. “Object? Not he! Likely thinks he’s above all that. Gave me some rot about ‘not understanding the country’ and ‘improvement of conditions over the past years.’ Well, my lass, I know exploitation of the lower classes when I see it, and here’s a shining example; not, mind you, that he necessarily realizes what he’s doing himself. Soft of a benevolent despot, if you know what I mean, and very likely honestly amazed that anyone might look at it differently.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But he’s such a fine, brave man.”

  “Brave? What in the world does he have to be ‘brave’ about? Look, Pat, he’s got those blasted Waziri to do his dirty work for him. And don’t tell me they’re not living a cut higher on the hog than the other poor devils. If it comes down to personal bravery, I doubt very much if he’s braver than the next one, even including this reporter!”

  “Do you really know that much about him, Arthur?” she asked gently.

  “I know that much about mankind, my dear. My years of observing and reporting on the strange behavior of that curious creature known as ‘man’ has taught me one thing; bravery comes to a screeching halt at a certain stage of the game.” The small caravan came to a halt. “Hullo, I believe we’ve reached Greystoke’s aircraft. Yes, there it is, just ahead. Well, this is as far as we go for now, old girl. Let’s get out and stretch our legs a bit while the boys set up camp and make some coffee. Gad, I’m bushed! I hope this expedition doesn’t take a great deal longer. I wonder if we’ll see an Abominable Snowman today? I must see to my photographic equipment, and I expect it might be the wise thing to set up the wireless and get a flash off to London, dateline: ‘Base Camp.’ Sounds terribly impressive, doesn’t it?”

  But the caravan didn’t unload there. Instead, after a consultation with the drivers, Basuli came over to the newspaperman and, in halting although understandable English, explained that, under orders from Lady Greystoke, the two Land Rovers and the lorry were to press along as far as they could toward the site of the wrecked aircraft, there to set up the camp. Burke nodded, unhappily, and climbed stiffly back into the vehicle.

  Jane’s capture by the yeti was accomplished with ridiculous ease. She and the small band of great apes arrived at the scene of the crashed plane and looked about for indications of what might or might not have happened. It was bitterly cold, and even the apes, with their shaggy fur, were shivering. A figure appeared on the slope to their left; it paused, then approached cautiously. Chulk was first to notice, and he called out softly to the others, “Some creature approaches.”

  Whatever it was, it was still too far away for the apes or Jane to note in any detail. It came closer, hesitantly, stopping for long intervals as if to assure itself that no harm would befall it. It appeared extremely shy. As it came closer, one could note that it was completely unlike an ape. It was vaguely humanoid in form. Now it was close enough so that Jane and the apes could hear its call, a cross between a grunt and a whistle. It sounded almost plaintive, as if anxious to make friends after first reassuring itself that no harm would come to it.

  Chulk growled softly to the others, “As soon as it comes a little nearer, we will charge it and overwhelm it. It is in my mind that this is the creature which has brought all this trouble upon Tarzan and the others.” Elaborately, with jungle cunning, he turned his back on the slowly approaching beast, as did the other apes, pretending a great interest in a nonexistent object at their feet. Finally, hearing the whistling bark from no more than a few yards away, Chulk screamed, “Now!” and in a body the great apes wheeled and charged up the slope, thrashing and making poor headway through the snow. The beast was close enough for Jane to get a good look at it. It was, she knew, a yeti, and she shuddered at the human-looking face.

  The Abominable Snowman alternately ran and halted, allowing the apes to almost reach him, then whirling and retreating further up the slope. Chulk and the others were by now in a fine state of anger, and even the gentle Nendat was uttering dire promises. But while the apes floundered in the deep snow, the yeti ran easily on top of it, as if on snowshoes. It was really no contest, and had the apes been less enraged or less frustrated, they would have abandoned the pursuit. Soon, in a matter of moments, they were high on the slope. Suddenly, there was a grunt and whistle directly behind Jane, and as she whirled, taking a horrified look at the Abominable Snowman just behind her, a steely arm clamped about her, she was carelessly tossed over a shoulder, and the Snowman trotted rapidly up the slope, veering away from the struggling apes. It was the oldest stratagem in the world; while one attracted the pack, another worked around behind it and picked the weakest off. Jane was obviously the weakest, hence the most logical. When the Snowman who had acted as decoy for the pack saw his fellow making off with Jane, he gave a last, derisive whistle, and fairly raced across the snow, leaving the bewildered and enraged apes in hopeless confusion. Nendat was first to see what had happened. “Look, they have taken Tarzan’s she!”