With the report of his gun D'Arnot saw the door fly openand the figure of a man pitch headlong within onto thecabin floor.

The Frenchman in his panic raised his gun to fire againinto the prostrate form, but suddenly in the half dusk of theopen door he saw that the man was white and in another instantrealized that he had shot his friend and protector, Tarzan of the Apes.

With a cry of anguish D'Arnot sprang to the ape-man's side,and kneeling, lifted the latter's head in his arms--callingTarzan's name aloud.

There was no response, and then D'Arnot placed his ear abovethe man's heart. To his joy he heard its steady beating beneath.

Carefully he lifted Tarzan to the cot, and then, after closingand bolting the door, he lighted one of the lamps and examinedthe wound.

The bullet had struck a glancing blow upon the skull.There was an ugly flesh wound, but no signs of a fracture ofthe skull.

D'Arnot breathed a sigh of relief, and went about bathingthe blood from Tarzan's face.

Soon the cool water revived him, and presently he openedhis eyes to look in questioning surprise at D'Arnot.

The latter had bound the wound with pieces of cloth, andas he saw that Tarzan had regained consciousness he aroseand going to the table wrote a message, which he handed tothe ape-man, explaining the terrible mistake he had made andhow thankful he was that the wound was not more serious.

Tarzan, after reading the message, sat on the edge of thecouch and laughed.

"It is nothing," he said in French, and then, his vocabularyfailing him, he wrote:

You should have seen what Bolgani did to me, and Kerchak,and Terkoz, before I killed them--then you wouldlaugh at such a little scratch.

D'Arnot handed Tarzan the two messages that had beenleft for him.

Tarzan read the first one through with a look of sorrow onhis face. The second one he turned over and over, searchingfor an opening--he had never seen a sealed envelope before.At length he handed it to D'Arnot.

The Frenchman had been watching him, and knew that Tarzanwas puzzled over the envelope. How strange it seemed thatto a full-grown white man an envelope was a mystery.D'Arnot opened it and handed the letter back to Tarzan.

Sitting on a camp stool the ape-man spread the writtensheet before him and read:

TO TARZAN OF THE APES:

Before I leave let me add my thanks to those of Mr. Claytonfor the kindness you have shown in permitting us the useof your cabin.

That you never came to make friends with us has been agreat regret to us. We should have liked so much to haveseen and thanked our host.

There is another I should like to thank also, but he did notcome back, though I cannot believe that he is dead.

I do not know his name. He is the great white giant whowore the diamond locket upon his breast.

If you know him and can speak his language carry mythanks to him, and tell him that I waited seven days for himto return.

Tell him, also, that in my home in America, in the city ofBaltimore, there will always be a welcome for him if he caresto come.

I found a note you wrote me lying among the leaves beneatha tree near the cabin. I do not know how you learned tolove me, who have never spoken to me, and I am very sorryif it is true, for I have already given my heart to another.

But know that I am always your friend,JANE PORTER.

Tarzan sat with gaze fixed upon the floor for nearly anhour. It was evident to him from the notes that they did notknow that he and Tarzan of the Apes were one and the same.

"I have given my heart to another," he repeated over andover again to himself.

Then she did not love him! How could she have pretendedlove, and raised him to such a pinnacle of hope only to casthim down to such utter depths of despair!

Maybe her kisses were only signs of friendship. How didhe know, who knew nothing of the customs of human beings?

Suddenly he arose, and, bidding D'Arnot good night as hehad learned to do, threw himself upon the couch of ferns thathad been Jane Porter's.

D'Arnot extinguished the lamp, and lay down upon the cot.

For a week they did little but rest, D'Arnot coaching Tarzanin French. At the end of that time the two men couldconverse quite easily.

One night, as they were sitting within the cabin beforeretiring, Tarzan turned to D'Arnot.

"Where is America?" he said.

D'Arnot pointed toward the northwest.

"Many thousands of miles across the ocean," he replied. "Why?"

"I am going there."

D'Arnot shook his head.

"It is impossible, my friend," he said.

Tarzan rose, and, going to one of the cupboards, returnedwith a well-thumbed geography.

Turning to a map of the world, he said:

"I have never quite understood all this; explain it to me, please."

When D'Arnot had done so, showing him that the bluerepresented all the water on the earth, and the bits of othercolors the continents and islands, Tarzan asked him to pointout the spot where they now were.

D'Arnot did so.

"Now point out America," said Tarzan.

And as D'Arnot placed his finger upon North America,Tarzan smiled and laid his palm upon the page, spanning thegreat ocean that lay between the two continents.

"You see it is not so very far," he said; "scarce the widthof my hand."

D'Arnot laughed. How could he make the man understand?

Then he took a pencil and made a tiny point upon theshore of Africa.

"This little mark," he said, "is many times larger upon thismap than your cabin is upon the earth. Do you see now howvery far it is?"

Tarzan thought for a long time.

"Do any white men live in Africa?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Where are the nearest?"

D'Arnot pointed out a spot on the shore just north of them.

"So close?" asked Tarzan, in surprise.

"Yes," said D'Arnot; "but it is not close."

"Have they big boats to cross the ocean?"

"Yes."

"We shall go there to-morrow," announced Tarzan.

Again D'Arnot smiled and shook his head.

"It is too far. We should die long before we reached them."

"Do you wish to stay here then forever?" asked Tarzan.

"No," said D'Arnot.

"Then we shall start to-morrow. I do not like it herelonger. I should rather die than remain here."

"Well," answered D'Arnot, with a shrug, "I do not know,my friend, but that I also would rather die than remain here.If you go, I shall go with you."

"It is settled then," said Tarzan. "I shall start for Americato-morrow."

"How will you get to America without money?" asked D'Arnot.

"What is money?" inquired Tarzan.

It took a long time to make him understand even imperfectly.

"How do men get money?" he asked at last.

"They work for it."

"Very well. I will work for it, then."

"No, my friend," returned D'Arnot, "you need not worryabout money, nor need you work for it. I have enoughmoney for two--enough for twenty. Much more than is goodfor one man and you shall have all you need if ever wereach civilization."

So on the following day they started north along the shore.Each man carrying a rifle and ammunition, beside beddingand some food and cooking utensils.

The latter seemed to Tarzan a most useless encumbrance,so he threw his away.

"But you must learn to eat cooked food, my friend,"remonstrated D'Arnot. "No civilized men eat raw flesh."

"There will be time enough when I reach civilization," saidTarzan. "I do not like the things and they only spoil the tasteof good meat."

For a month they traveled north. Sometimes finding foodin plenty and again going hungry for days.

They saw no signs of natives nor were they molested bywild beasts. Their journey was a miracle of ease.

Tarzan asked questions and learned rapidly. D'Arnottaught him many of the refinements of civilization--even tothe use of knife and fork; but sometimes Tarzan would dropthem in disgust and grasp his food in his strong brown hands,tearing it with his molars like a wild beast.

Then D'Arnot would expostulate with him, saying:

"You must not eat like a brute, Tarzan, while I am tryingto make a gentleman of you. MON DIEU! Gentlemen do notthus--it is terrible."

Tarzan would grin sheepishly and pick up his knife andfork again, but at heart he hated them.

On the journey he told D'Arnot about the great chest he hadseen the sailors bury; of how he had dug it up and carriedit to the gathering place of the apes and buried it there.

"It must be the treasure chest of Professor Porter," saidD'Arnot. "It is too bad, but of course you did not know."

Then Tarzan recalled the letter written by Jane to herfriend--the one he had stolen when they first came to hiscabin, and now he knew what was in the chest and what itmeant to Jane.

"To-morrow we shall go back after it," he announced to D'Arnot.

"Go back?" exclaimed D'Arnot. "But, my dear fellow, wehave now been three weeks upon the march. It would requirethree more to return to the treasure, and then, with thatenormous weight which required, you say, four sailors to carry,it would be months before we had again reached this spot."

"It must be done, my friend," insisted Tarzan. "You may goon toward civilization, and I will return for the treasure.I can go very much faster alone."

"I have a better plan, Tarzan," exclaimed D'Arnot. "Weshall go on together to the nearest settlement, and there wewill charter a boat and sail back down the coast for the treasureand so transport it easily. That will be safer and quickerand also not require us to be separated. What do you think ofthat plan?"

"Very well," said Tarzan. "The treasure will be therewhenever we go for it; and while I could fetch it now, andcatch up with you in a moon or two, I shall feel safer for youto know that you are not alone on the trail. When I see howhelpless you are, D'Arnot, I often wonder how the human racehas escaped annihilation all these ages which you tell me about.Why, Sabor, single handed, could exterminate a thousand of you."

D'Arnot laughed.

"You will think more highly of your genus when you haveseen its armies and navies, its great cities, and its mightyengineering works. Then you will realize that it is mind, andnot muscle, that makes the human animal greater than themighty beasts of your jungle.

"Alone and unarmed, a single man is no match for any ofthe larger beasts; but if ten men were together, they wouldcombine their wits and their muscles against their savageenemies, while the beasts, being unable to reason, would neverthink of combining against the men. Otherwise, Tarzan of theApes, how long would you have lasted in the savage wilderness?"

"You are right, D'Arnot," replied Tarzan, "for if Kerchakhad come to Tublat's aid that night at the Dum-Dum, therewould have been an end of me. But Kerchak could neverthink far enough ahead to take advantage of any suchopportunity. Even Kala, my mother, could never plan ahead.She simply ate what she needed when she needed it, and if thesupply was very scarce, even though she found plenty forseveral meals, she would never gather any ahead.

"I remember that she used to think it very silly of me toburden myself with extra food upon the march, though shewas quite glad to eat it with me, if the way chanced to bebarren of sustenance."

"Then you knew your mother, Tarzan?" asked D'Arnot, in surprise.

"Yes. She was a great, fine ape, larger than I, and weighingtwice as much."

"And your father?" asked D'Arnot.

"I did not know him. Kala told me he was a white ape,and hairless like myself. I know now that he must havebeen a white man."

D'Arnot looked long and earnestly at his companion.

"Tarzan," he said at length, "it is impossible that the ape,Kala, was your mother. If such a thing can be, which Idoubt, you would have inherited some of the characteristicsof the ape, but you have not--you are pure man, and, Ishould say, the offspring of highly bred and intelligentparents. Have you not the slightest clue to your past?"

"Not the slightest," replied Tarzan.

"No writings in the cabin that might have told somethingof the lives of its original inmates?"

"I have read everything that was in the cabin with theexception of one book which I know now to be written in alanguage other than English. Possibly you can read it."

Tarzan fished the little black diary from the bottom of hisquiver, and handed it to his companion.

D'Arnot glanced at the title page.

"It is the diary of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, anEnglish nobleman, and it is written in French," he said.

Then he proceeded to read the diary that had been writtenover twenty years before, and which recorded the details ofthe story which we already know--the story of adventure,hardships and sorrow of John Clayton and his wife Alice,from the day they left England until an hour before he wasstruck down by Kerchak.

D'Arnot read aloud. At times his voice broke, and he wasforced to stop reading for the pitiful hopelessness that spokebetween the lines.

Occasionally he glanced at Tarzan; but the ape-man satupon his haunches, like a carven image, his eyes fixed uponthe ground.

Only when the little babe was mentioned did the tone of thediary alter from the habitual note of despair which had creptinto it by degrees after the first two months upon the shore.

Then the passages were tinged with a subdued happinessthat was even sadder than the rest.

One entry showed an almost hopeful spirit.

To-day our little boy is six months old. He is sitting inAlice's lap beside the table where I am writing--a happy,healthy, perfect child.

Somehow, even against all reason, I seem to see him agrown man, taking his father's place in the world--thesecond John Clayton--and bringing added honors to the houseof Greystoke.

There--as though to give my prophecy the weight of hisendorsement--he has grabbed my pen in his chubby fists andwith his inkbegrimed little fingers has placed the seal of histiny finger prints upon the page.

And there, on the margin of the page, were the partially blurredimprints of four wee fingers and the outer half of the thumb.

When D'Arnot had finished the diary the two men sat insilence for some minutes.

"Well! Tarzan of the Apes, what think you?" asked D'Arnot."Does not this little book clear up the mystery ofyour parentage?

"Why man, you are Lord Greystoke."

"The book speaks of but one child," he replied. "Its littleskeleton lay in the crib, where it died crying for nourishment,from the first time I entered the cabin until Professor Porter'sparty buried it, with its father and mother, beside the cabin.

"No, that was the babe the book speaks of--and the mysteryof my origin is deeper than before, for I have thoughtmuch of late of the possibility of that cabin having been mybirthplace. I am afraid that Kala spoke the truth," heconcluded sadly.

D'Arnot shook his head. He was unconvinced, and in hismind had sprung the determination to prove the correctnessof his theory, for he had discovered the key which alonecould unlock the mystery, or consign it forever to the realmsof the unfathomable.

A week later the two men came suddenly upon a clearingin the forest.

In the distance were several buildings surrounded by astrong palisade. Between them and the enclosure stretched acultivated field in which a number of negroes were working.

The two halted at the edge of the jungle.

Tarzan fitted his bow with a poisoned arrow, but D'Arnotplaced a hand upon his arm.

"What would you do, Tarzan?" he asked.

"They will try to kill us if they see us," replied Tarzan."I prefer to be the killer."

"Maybe they are friends," suggested D'Arnot.

"They are black," was Tarzan's only reply.

And again he drew back his shaft.

"You must not, Tarzan!" cried D'Arnot. "White men donot kill wantonly. MON DIEU! but you have much to learn.

"I pity the ruffian who crosses you, my wild man, when Itake you to Paris. I will have my hands full keeping yourneck from beneath the guillotine."

Tarzan lowered his bow and smiled.

"I do not know why I should kill the blacks back there inmy jungle, yet not kill them here. Suppose Numa, the lion,should spring out upon us, I should say, then, I presume:Good morning, Monsieur Numa, how is Madame Numa; eh?"

"Wait until the blacks spring upon you," replied D'Arnot,"then you may kill them. Do not assume that men are yourenemies until they prove it."

"Come," said Tarzan, "let us go and present ourselves tobe killed," and he started straight across the field, his headhigh held and the tropical sun beating upon his smooth,brown skin.

Behind him came D'Arnot, clothed in some garmentswhich had been discarded at the cabin by Clayton when theofficers of the French cruiser had fitted him out in morepresentable fashion.

Presently one of the blacks looked up, and beholding Tarzan,turned, shrieking, toward the palisade.

In an instant the air was filled with cries of terror from thefleeing gardeners, but before any had reached the palisade awhite man emerged from the enclosure, rifle in hand, to discoverthe cause of the commotion.

What he saw brought his rifle to his shoulder, and Tarzanof the Apes would have felt cold lead once again had notD'Arnot cried loudly to the man with the leveled gun:

"Do not fire! We are friends!"

"Halt, then!" was the reply.

"Stop, Tarzan!" cried D'Arnot. "He thinks we are enemies."

Tarzan dropped into a walk, and together he and D'Arnotadvanced toward the white man by the gate.

The latter eyed them in puzzled bewilderment.

"What manner of men are you?" he asked, in French.

"White men," replied D'Arnot. "We have been lost in thejungle for a long time."

The man had lowered his rifle and now advanced withoutstretched hand.

"I am Father Constantine of the French Mission here," hesaid, "and I am glad to welcome you."

"This is Monsieur Tarzan, Father Constantine," repliedD'Arnot, indicating the ape-man; and as the priest extendedhis hand to Tarzan, D'Arnot added: "and I am Paul D'Arnot,of the French Navy."

Father Constantine took the hand which Tarzan extendedin imitation of the priest's act, while the latter took inthe superb physique and handsome face in one quick, keen glance.

And thus came Tarzan of the Apes to the first outpost ofcivilization.

For a week they remained there, and the ape-man, keenlyobservant, learned much of the ways of men; meanwhile blackwomen sewed white duck garments for himself and D'Arnot sothat they might continue their journey properly clothed.