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THE MONSTER MEN
  by Edgar Rice Burroughs

CHAPTER 12, PERFIDY

On the morning that Bulan set out with his three monsters from the
deserted long-house in which they had spent the night, Professor
Maxon's party was speeding up the river, constantly buoyed with hope
by the repeated reports of natives that the white girl had been seen
passing in a war prahu.

In translating this information to Professor Maxon, von Horn habitually
made it appear that the girl was in the hands of Number Thirteen, or
Bulan, as they had now come to call him owing to the natives' constant
use of that name in speaking of the strange, and formidable white giant
who had invaded their land.

At the last long-house below the gorge, the head of which had witnessed
Virginia Maxon's escape from the clutches of Ninaka and Barunda, the
searching party was forced to stop owing to a sudden attack of fever which
had prostrated the professor. Here they found a woman who had a strange
tale to relate of a remarkable sight she had witnessed that very morning.

It seemed that she had been straining tapioca in a little stream which
flowed out of the jungle at the rear of the long-house when her attention
was attracted by the crashing of an animal through the bushes a few yards
above her. As she looked she saw a huge MIAS PAPPAN cross the stream,
bearing in his arms the dead, or unconscious form of a white-skinned girl
with golden hair.

Her description of the MIAS PAPPAN was such as to half convince von
Horn that she might have seen Number Three carrying Virginia Maxon,
although he could not reconcile the idea with the story that the two
Dyaks had told him of losing all of Bulan's monsters in the jungle.

Of course it was possible that they might have made their way over
land to this point, but it seemed scarcely credible--and then, how
could they have come into posession of Virginia Maxon, whom every report
except this last agreed was still in the hands of Ninaka and Barunda.
There was always the possibility that the natives had lied to him, and
the more he questioned the Dyak woman the more firmly convinced he
became that this was the fact.

The outcome of it was that von Horn finally decided to make an attempt
to follow the trail of the creature that the woman had seen, and with
this plan in view persuaded Muda Saffir to arrange with the chief of the
long-house at which they then were to furnish him with trackers and an
escort of warriors, promising them some splendid heads should they be
successful in overhauling Bulan and his pack.

Professor Maxon was too ill to accompany the expedition, and von
Horn set out alone with his Dyak allies. For a time after they departed
Sing Lee fretted and fidgeted upon the verandah of the long-house. He
wholly distrusted von Horn, and from motives of his own finally decided
to follow him. The trail of the party was plainly discernible, and the
Chinaman had no difficulty in following them, so that they had gone no
great way before he came within hearing distance of them. Always just far
enough behind to be out of sight, he kept pace with the little column as
it marched through the torrid heat of the morning, until a little after
noon he was startled by the sudden cry of a woman in distress, and the
answering shout of a man.

The voices came from a point in the jungle a little to his right and
behind him, and without waiting for the column to return, or even to
ascertain if they had heard the cries, Sing ran rapidly in the direction
of the alarm. For a time he saw nothing, but was guided by the snapping
of twigs and the rustling of bushes ahead, where the authors of the
commotion were evidently moving swiftly through the jungle.

Presently a strange sight burst upon his astonished vision. It was
the hideous Number Three in mad pursuit of a female ourang outang, and
an instant later he saw Number Twelve and Number Ten in battle with two
males, while beyond he heard the voice of a man shouting encouragement
to some one as he dashed through the jungle. It was in this last event
that Sing's interest centered, for he was sure that he recognized the
voice as that of Bulan, while the first cry for help which he had heard
had been in a woman's voice, and Sing knew that its author could be none
other than Virginia Maxon.

Those whom he pursued were moving rapidly through the jungle which was
now becoming more and more open, but the Chinaman was no mean runner, and
it was not long before he drew within sight of the object of his pursuit.

His first glimpse was of Bulan, running swiftly between two huge bull
ourang outangs that snapped and tore at him as he bounded forward cutting
and slashing at his foes with his heavy whip. Just in front of the trio
was another bull bearing in his arms the unconscious form of Virginia
Maxon who had fainted at the first response to her cry for help. Sing was
armed with a heavy revolver but he dared not attempt to use it for fear
that he might wound either Bulan or the girl, and so he was forced to
remain but a passive spectator of what ensued.

Bulan, notwithstanding the running battle the two bulls were forcing
upon him, was gaining steadily upon the fleeing ourang outang that was
handicapped by the weight of the fair captive he bore in his huge, hairy
arms. As they came into a natural clearing in the jungle the fleeing bull
glanced back to see his pursuer almost upon him, and with an angry roar
turned to meet the charge.

In another instant Bulan and the three bulls were rolling and tumbling
about the ground, a mass of flying fur and blood from which rose fierce
and angry roars and growls, while Virginia Maxon lay quietly upon the
sward where her captor had dropped her.

Sing was about to rush forward and pick her up, when he saw von Horn
and his Dyaks leap into the clearing, to which they had been guided by
the sounds of the chase and the encounter. The doctor halted at the sight
that met his eyes--the prostrate form of the girl and the man battling
with three huge bulls.

Then he gathered up Virginia Maxon, and with a sign to his Dyaks, who
were thoroughly frightened at the mere sight of the white giant of whom
they had heard such terrible stories, turned and hastened back in the
direction from which they had come, leaving the man to what seemed must
be a speedy and horrible death.

Sing Lee was astounded at the perfidy of the act. To Bulan alone was
due the entire credit of having rescued Professor Maxon's daughter,
and yet in the very presence of his self-sacrificing loyalty and devotion
von Horn had deserted him without making the least attempt to aid him.
But the wrinkled old Chinaman was made of different metal, and had
started forward to assist Bulan when a heavy hand suddenly fell upon his
shoulder. Looking around he saw the hideous face of Number Ten snarling
into his. The bloodshot eyes of the monster were flaming with rage. He
had been torn and chewed by the bull with which he had fought, and though
he had finally overcome and killed the beast, a female which he had
pursued had eluded him. In a frenzy of passion and blood lust aroused by
his wounds, disappointment and the taste of warm blood which still smeared
his lips and face, he had been seeking the female when he suddenly
stumbled upon the hapless Sing.

With a roar he grasped the Chinaman as though to break him in two, but
Sing was not at all inclined to give up his life without a struggle, and
Number Ten was quick to learn that no mean muscles moved beneath that
wrinkled, yellow hide.

There could, however, have been but one outcome to the unequal struggle
had Sing not been armed with a revolver, though it was several seconds
before he could bring it into play upon the great thing that shook and
tossed him about as though he had been a rat in the mouth of a terrier.
But suddenly there was the sharp report of a firearm, and another of
Professor Maxon's unhappy experiments sank back into the nothingness
from which he had conjured it.

Then Sing turned his attention to Bulan and his three savage
assailants, but, except for the dead body of a bull ourang outang upon
the spot where he had last seen the four struggling, there was no sign
either of the white man or his antagonists; nor, though he listened
attentively, could he catch the slightest sound within the jungle other
than the rustling of the leaves and the raucous cries of the brilliant
birds that flitted among the gorgeous blooms about him.

For half an hour he searched in every direction, but finally, fearing
that he might become lost in the mazes of the unfamiliar forest he
reluctantly turned his face toward the river and the long-house that
sheltered his party.

Here he found Professor Maxon much improved--the safe return of
Virginia having acted as a tonic upon him. The girl and her father sat
with von Horn upon the verandah of the long-house as Sing clambered up
the notched log that led to it from the ground. At sight of Sing's
wrinkled old face Virginia Maxon sprang to her feet and ran forward to
greet him, for she had been very fond of the shrewd and kindly Chinaman
of whom she had seen so much during the dreary months of her imprisonment
within the campong.

"Oh, Sing," she cried, "where have you been? We were all so worried to
think that no sooner was one of us rescued than another became lost."

"Sing takee walk, Linee, las all," said the grinning Chinaman. "Velly
glad see Linee black 'gain," and that was all that Sing Lee had to say
of the adventures through which he had just passed, and the strange
sights that he had seen.

Again and again the girl and von Horn narrated the stirring scenes of
the day, the latter being compelled to repeat all that had transpired
from the moment that he had heard Virginia's cry, though it was apparent
that he only consented to speak of his part in her rescue under the most
considerable urging. Very pretty modesty, thought Sing when he had heard
the doctor's version of the affair.

"You see," said von Horn, "when I reached the spot Number Three, the
brute that you thought was an ape, had just turned you over to Number
Thirteen, or, as the natives now call him, Bulan. You were then in a
faint, and when I attacked Bulan he dropped you to defend himself. I had
expected a bitter fight from him after the wild tales the natives have
been telling of his ferocity, but it was soon evident that he is an arrant
coward, for I did not even have to fire my revolver--a few thumps with the
butt of it upon his brainless skull sent him howling into the jungle with
his pack at his heels."

"How fortunate it is, my dear doctor," said Professor Maxon, "that
you were bright enough to think of trailing the miscreant into the
jungle. But for that Virginia would still be in his clutches and by
this time he would have been beyond all hope of capture. How can we
ever repay you, dear friend?"

"That you were generous enough to arrange when we first embarked upon
the search for your daughter," replied von Horn.

"Just so, just so," said the professor, but a shade of trouble tinged
the expression of his face, and a moment later he arose, saying that he
felt weak and tired and would go to his sleeping room and lie down for a
while. The fact was that Professor Maxon regretted the promise he had made
von Horn relative to his daughter.

Once before he had made plans for her marriage only to regret them
later; he hoped that he had made no mistake this time, but he realized
that it had scarcely been fair to Virginia to promise her to his assistant
without first obtaining her consent. Yet a promise was a promise, and,
again, was it not true that but for von Horn she would have been dead or
worse than dead in a short time had she not been rescued from the clutches
of the soulless Bulan? Thus did the old man justify his action, and clinch
the determination that he had before reached to compel Virginia to wed von
Horn should she, from some incomprehensible motive, demur. Yet he hoped
that the girl would make it easy, by accepting voluntarily the man who had
saved her life.

Left alone, or as he thought alone, with the girl in the growing
shadows of the evening, von Horn thought the moment propitious for
renewing his suit. He did not consider the natives squatting about them
as of sufficient consequence to consider, since they would not understand
the language in which he addressed Virginia, and in the dusk he failed to
note that Sing squatted with the Dyaks, close behind them.

"Virginia," he commenced, after an interval of silence, "often before
have I broached the subject nearest to my heart, yet never have you given
me much encouragement. Can you not feel for the man who would gladly give
his life for you, sufficient affection to permit you to make him the
happiest man in the world? I do not ask for all your love at first--that
will come later. Just give me the right to cherish and protect you. Say
that you will be my wife, Virginia, and we need have no more fears that
the strange vagaries of your father's mind can ever again jeopardize your
life or your happiness as they have in the past."

"I feel that I owe you my life," replied the girl in a quiet voice,
"and while I am now positive that my father has entirely regained his
sanity, and looks with as great abhorrence upon the terrible fate he
planned for me as I myself, I cannot forget the debt of gratitude which
belongs to you.

"At the same time I do not wish to be the means of making you unhappy,
as surely would be the result were I to marry you without love. Let us
wait until I know myself better. Though you have spoken to me of the
matter before, I realize now that I never have made any effort to
determine whether or not I really can love you. There is time enough
before we reach civilization, if ever we are fortunate enough to do so
at all. Will you not be as generous as you are brave, and give me a few
days before I must make you a final answer?"

With Professor Maxon's solemn promise to insure his ultimate success
von Horn was very gentle and gracious in deferring to the girl's wishes.
The girl for her part could not put from her mind the disappointment she
had felt when she discovered that her rescuer was von Horn, and not the
handsome young giant whom she had been positive was in close pursuit of
her abductors.

When Number Thirteen had been mentioned she had always pictured him
as a hideous monster, similar to the creature that had seized her in
the jungle beside the encampment that first day she had seen the
mysterious stranger, of whom she could obtain no information either from
her father or von Horn. When she had recently insisted that the same man
had been at the head of her father's creatures in an attempt to rescue
her, both von Horn and Professor Maxon scoffed at the idea, until at last
she was convinced that the fright and the firelight had conspired to
conjure in her brain the likeness of one who was linked by memory to
another time of danger and despair.

Virginia could not understand why it was that the face of the stranger
persisted in obtruding itself in her memory. That the man was unusually
good looking was undeniable, but she had known many good looking men, nor
was she especially impressionable to mere superficial beauty. No words
had passed between them on the occasion of their first meeting, so it
could have been nothing that he said which caused the memory of him to
cling so tenaciously in her mind.

What was it then? Was it the memory of the moments that she had lain
in his strong arms--was it the shadow of the sweet, warm glow that had
suffused her as his eyes had caught hers upon his face?

The thing was tantalizing--it was annoying. The girl blushed in
mortification at the very thought that she could cling so resolutely
to the memory of a total stranger, and--still greater humiliation--long
in the secret depths of her soul to see him again.

She was angry with herself, but the more she tried to forget the
young giant who had come into her life for so brief an instant, the
more she speculated upon his identity and the strange fate that had
brought him to their little, savage island only to snatch him away again
as mysteriously as he had come, the less was the approval with which she
looked upon the suit of Doctor von Horn.

Von Horn had left her, and strolled down to the river. Finally Virginia
arose to seek the crude couch which had been spread for her in one of
the sleeping rooms of the long-house. As she passed a group of natives
squatted nearby one of the number arose and approached her, and as she
halted, half in fright, a low voice whispered:

"Lookee out, Linee, dloctor Hornee velly bad man."

"Why, Sing!" exclaimed Virginia. "What in the world do you mean by
saying such a thing as that?"

"Never mind, Linee; you always good to old Sing. Sing no likee see
you sadee. Dloctor Hornee velly bad man, las allee," and without another
word the Chinaman turned and walked away.


CHAPTER 13, BURIED TREASURE
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After the escape of the girl Barunda and Ninaka had fallen out over
that affair and the division of the treasure, with the result that
the panglima had slipped a knife between the ribs of his companion and
dropped the body overboard.

Barunda's followers, however, had been highly enraged at the act, and
in the ensuing battle which they waged for revenge of their murdered
chief Ninaka and his crew had been forced to take to the shore and hide
in the jungle.

With difficulty they had saved the chest and dragged it after them
into the mazes of the underbrush. Finally, however, they succeeded in
eluding the angry enemy, and took up their march through the interior
for the head of a river which would lead them to the sea by another
route, it being Ninaka's intention to dispose of the contents of the
chest as quickly as possible through the assistance of a rascally Malay
who dwelt at Gunung Tebor, where he carried on a thriving trade with
pirates.

But presently it became apparent that he had not so easily escaped
the fruits of his villainy as he had supposed, for upon the evening
of the first day the rear of his little column was attacked by some of
Barunda's warriors who had forged ahead of their fellows, with the result
that the head of Ninaka's brother went to increase the prestige and glory
of the house of the enemy.

Ninaka was panic-stricken, since he knew that hampered as he was by
the heavy chest he could neither fight nor run to advantage. And so,
upon a dark night near the head waters of the river he sought, he buried
the treasure at the foot of a mighty buttress tree, and with his parang
made certain cabalistic signs upon the bole whereby he might identify the
spot when it was safe to return and disinter his booty. Then, with his
men, he hastened down the stream until they reached the head of prahu
navigation where they stole a craft and paddled swiftly on toward the sea.

When the three bull ourang outangs closed upon Bulan he felt no fear
as to the outcome of the battle, for never in his experience had he
coped with any muscles that his own mighty thews could not overcome. But
as the battle continued he realized that there might be a limit to the
number of antagonists which he could successfully withstand, since he
could scarcely hope with but two hands to reach the throats of three
enemies, or ward off the blows and clutches of six powerful hands, or the
gnashing of three sets of savage fangs.

When the truth dawned upon him that he was being killed the instinct
of self-preservation was born in him. The ferocity with which he had
fought before paled into insignificance beside the mad fury with which
he now attacked the three terrible creatures upon him. Shaking himself
like a great lion he freed his arms for a moment from the clinging
embrace of his foemen, and seizing the neck of the nearest in his mighty
clutch wrenched the head completely around.

There was one awful shriek from the tortured brute--the vertebrae
parted with a snap, and Bulan's antagonists were reduced to two. Lunging
and struggling the three combatants stumbled farther and farther into the
jungle beyond the clearing. With mighty blows the man buffeted the beasts
to right and left, but ever they returned in bestial rage to renew the
encounter. Bulan was weakening rapidly under the terrific strain to which
he had been subjected, and from loss of the blood which flowed from his
wounds; yet he was slowly mastering the foaming brutes, who themselves
were torn and bleeding and exhausted. Weaker and weaker became the
struggles of them all, when a sudden misstep sent Bulan stumbling head-
foremost against the stem of a tree, where, stunned, he sank unconscious,
at the mercy of the relentless bulls.

They had already sprung upon the prostrate form of their victim to
finish what the accident had commenced, when the loud report of Sing's
revolver smote upon their startled ears as the Chinaman's bullet buried
itself in the heart of Number Ten. Never had the ourang outangs heard the
sound of a firearm, and the noise, seemingly in such close proximity,
filled them with such terror that on the instant they forgot all else than
this new and startling fear, and with headlong haste leaped away into the
jungle, leaving Bulan lying where he had fallen.

So it was that though Sing passed within a few paces of the unconscious
man he neither saw nor heard aught of him or his antagonists.

When Bulan returned to consciousness the day was drawing to a close.
He was stiff and sore and weak. His head ached horribly. He thought that
he must indeed be dying, for how could one who suffered so revive? But at
last he managed to stagger to his feet, and finally to reach the stream
along which he had been travelling earlier in the day. Here he quenched
his thirst and bathed his wounds, and as darkness came he lay down to
sleep upon a bed of matted grasses.

The next morning found him refreshed and in considerably less pain,
for the powers of recuperation which belonged to his perfect health and
mighty physique had already worked an almost miraculous transformation in
him. While he was hunting in the jungle for his breakfast he came suddenly
upon Number Three and Number Twelve similarly employed.

At sight of him the two creatures started to run away, but he called
to them reassuringly and they returned. On closer inspection Bulan saw
that both were covered with terrible wounds, and after questioning them
learned that they had fared almost as badly at the hands of the ourang
outangs as had he.

"Even the beasts loathe us," exclaimed Number Twelve. "What are we to do?"

"Leave the beasts alone, as I told you," replied Bulan.

"Human beings hate us also," persisted Number Twelve.

"Then let us live by ourselves," suggested Number Three.

"We hate each other," retorted the pessimistic Number Twelve. "There
Is no place for us in the world, and no companionship. We are but
soulless things."

"Stop!" cried Bulan. "I am not a soulless thing. I am a man, and
within me is as fine and pure a soul as any man may own," and to his
mind's eye came the vision of a fair face surmounted by a mass of
loosely waving, golden hair; but the brainless ones could not understand
and only shook their heads as they resumed their feeding and forgot the
subject.

When the three had satisfied the cravings of their appetites two of
them were for lying down to sleep until it should be time to feed again,
but Bulan, once more master, would not permit it, and forced them to
accompany him in his seemingly futile search for the girl who had
disappeared so mysteriously after he had rescued her from the ourang
outangs.

Both Number Twelve and Number Three had assured him that the beasts
had not recaptured her, for they had seen the entire band flee madly
through the jungle after hearing the report of the single shot which had
so terrorized Bulan's antagonists. Bulan did not know what to make of this
occurrence which he had not himself heard, the shot having come after he
had lost consciousness at the foot of the tree; but from the description
of the noise given him by Number Twelve he felt sure that it must have
been the report of a gun, and hoped that it betokened the presence of
Virginia Maxon's friends, and that she was now safe in their keeping.

Nevertheless he did not relinquish his determination to continue his
search for her, since it was quite possible that the gun had been fired
by a native, many of whom possessed firearms. His first concern was for
the girl's welfare, which spoke eloquently for the chivalry of his
character, and though he wished to see her for the pleasure that it would
give him, the hope of serving her was ever the first consideration in his
mind.

He was now confident that he was following the wrong direction, and
with the intention in view of discovering the tracks of the party which
had rescued or captured Virginia after he had been forced to relinquish
her, he set out in a totally new direction away from the river. His
small woodcraft and little experience in travelling resulted in his
becoming completely confused, so that instead of returning to the spot
where he had last seen the girl, as he wished to do, he bore far to the
northeast of the place, and missed entirely the path which von Horn and
his Dyaks had taken from the long-house into the jungle and back.

All that day he urged his reluctant companions on through the fearful
heat of the tropics until, almost exhausted, they halted at dusk upon the
bank of a river, where they filled their stomachs with cooling draughts,
and after eating lay down to sleep. It was quite dark when Bulan was
aroused by the sound of something approaching from up the river, and as
he lay listening he presently heard the subdued voices of men conversing
in whispers. He recognized the language as that of the Dyaks, though he
could interpret nothing which they said.

Presently he saw a dozen warriors emerge into a little patch of
moonlight. They bore a huge chest among them which they deposited within
a few paces of where Bulan lay. Then they commenced to dig in the soft
earth with their spears and parangs until they had excavated a shallow
pit. Into this they lowered the chest, covering it over with earth and
sprinkling dead grass, twigs and leaves above it, that it might present
to a searcher no sign that the ground had recently been disturbed. The
balance of the loose earth which would not go back into the pit was thrown
into the river.

When all had been made to appear as it was before, one of the warriors
made several cuts and scratches upon the stem of a tree which grew above
the spot where the chest was buried; then they hastened on in silence
past Bulan and down the river.


As von Horn stood by the river's bank after his conversation with
Virginia, he saw a small sampan approaching from up stream. In it he
made out two natives, and the stealthiness of their approach caused him
to withdraw into the shadow of a large prahu which was beached close to
where he had been standing.

When the men had come close to the landing one of them gave a low
signal, and presently a native came down from the long-house.

"Who is it comes by night?" he asked. "And what want you?"

"News has just reached us that Muda Saffir is alive," replied one of
the men in the boat, "and that he sleeps this night in your long-house.
Is it true?"

"Yes," answered the man on shore. "What do you wish of the Rajah Muda
Saffir?"

"We are men of his company and we have news for him," returned the
speaker in the sampan. "Tell him that we must speak to him at once."

The native on shore returned to the long-house without replying.
Von Horn wondered what the important news for Muda Saffir might be,
and so he remained as he had been, concealed behind the prahu.

Presently the old Malay came down to the water's edge--very warily
though--and asked the men whom they might be. When they had given
their names he seemed relieved.

"Ninaka," they said, "has murdered Barunda who was taking the rajah's
treasure up to the rajah's stronghold--the treasure which Ninaka had
stolen after trying to murder the rajah and which Barunda had recaptured.
Now Ninaka, after murdering Barunda, set off through the jungle toward
the river which leads to Gunung Tebor, and Barunda's uncle followed him
with what few men he had with him; but he sent us down river to try and
find you, master, and beg of you to come with many men and overtake Ninaka
and punish him."

Muda Saffir thought for a moment.

"Hasten back to the uncle of Barunda and tell him that as soon as I
can gather the warriors I shall come and punish Ninaka. I have another
treasure here which I must not lose, but I can arrange that it will still
be here when I return for it, and then Barunda's uncle can come back with
me to assist me if assistance is needed. Also, be sure to tell Barunda's
uncle never to lose sight of the treasure," and Muda Saffir turned and
hastened back to the long-house.

As the men in the sampan headed the boat's bow up stream again,
von Horn ran along the jungle trail beside the river and abreast of
the paddlers. When he thought that they were out of hearing of the long-
house he hailed the two. In startled surprise the men ceased paddling.

"Who are you and what do you want?" asked one.

"I am the man to whom the chest belongs," replied von Horn. "If you
will take me to Barunda's uncle before Muda Saffir reaches him you shall
each have the finest rifles that the white man makes, with ammunition
enough to last you a year. All I ask is that you guide me within sight of
the party that pursues Ninaka; then you may leave me and tell no one what
you have done, nor will I tell any. What say you?"

The two natives consulted together in low tones. At last they drew
nearer the shore.

"Will you give us each a bracelet of brass as well as the rifles?"
asked the spokesman.

Von Horn hesitated. He knew the native nature well. To have acquiesced
too readily would have been to have invited still further demands from them.

"Only the rifles and ammunition," he said at last, "unless you succeed
in keeping the knowledge of my presence from both Barunda's uncle and
Muda Saffir. If you do that you shall have the bracelets also."

The prow of the sampan touched the bank.

"Come!" said one of the warriors.

Von Horn stepped aboard. He was armed only with a brace of Colts,
and he was going into the heart of the wild country of the head hunters,
to pit his wits against those of the wily Muda Saffir. His guides were
two savage head hunting warriors of a pirate crew from whom he hoped to
steal what they considered a fabulously rich treasure. Whatever sins might
be laid to the door of the doctor, there could be no question but that
he was a very brave man!

Von Horn's rash adventure had been suggested by the hope that he
might, by bribing some of the natives with Barunda's uncle, make way
with the treasure before Muda Saffir arrived to claim it, or, failing
that, learn its exact whereabouts that he might return for it with an
adequate force later. That he was taking his life in his hands he well
knew, but so great was the man's cupidity that he reckoned no risk too
great for the acquirement of a fortune.

The two Dyaks, paddling in silence up the dark river, proceeded for
nearly three hours before they drew in to the bank and dragged the sampan
up into the bushes. Then they set out upon a narrow trail into the jungle.
It so happened that after travelling for several miles they inadvertently
took another path than that followed by the party under Barunda's uncle,
so that they passed the latter without being aware of it, going nearly half
a mile to the right of where the trailers camped a short distance from the
bivouac of Ninaka.

In the dead of night Ninaka and his party had crawled away under the
very noses of the avengers, taking the chest with them, and by chance
von Horn and the two Dyaks cut back into the main trail along the river
almost at the very point that Ninaka halted to bury the treasure.

And so it was that Bulan was not the only one who watched the hiding
of the chest.

When Ninaka had disappeared down the river trail Bulan lay speculating
upon the strange actions he had witnessed. He wondered why the men should
dig a hole in the midst of the jungle to hide away the box which he had
so often seen in Professor Maxon's workshop. It occurred to him that it
might be well to remember just where the thing was buried, so that he
could lead the professor to it should he ever see the old man again. As
he lay thus, half dozing, his attention was attracted by a stealthy
rustling in the bushes nearby, and as he watched he was dumbfounded to
see von Horn creep out into the moonlight. A moment later the man was
followed by two Dyaks. The three stood conversing in low tones, pointing
repeatedly at the spot where the chest lay hidden. Bulan could understand
but little of their conversation, but it was evident that von Horn was
urging some proposition to which the warriors demurred.

Suddenly, without an instant's warning, von Horn drew his gun, wheeled,
and fired point-blank, first at one of his companions, then at the other.
Both men fell in their tracks, and scarcely had the pungent odor of the
powder smoke reached Bulan's nostrils ere the white man had plunged into
the jungle and disappeared.

Failing in his attempt to undermine the loyalty of the two Dyaks
von Horn had chosen the only other way to keep the knowledge of the
whereabouts of the chest from Barunda's uncle and Muda Saffir, and now
his principal interest in life was to escape the vengeance of the head
hunters and return to the long-house before his absence should be detected.

There he could form a party of natives and set out to regain the
chest after Muda Saffir and Barunda's uncle had given up the quest. That
suspicion should fall on him seemed scarcely credible since the only men
who knew that he had left the long-house that night lay dead upon the
very spot where the treasure reposed.

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  End Chapter 13 -- THE MONSTER MEN. Get the next issue of RUNE'S RAG
for the exciting continuation of this story by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
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  Edgar Rice Burroughs has influenced writers and readers for the past
three generations, with well over 100 million books produced because of
his fertile imagination; this offering is a presentation to those who
are unfamiliar with his work -- other than the TARZAN series.
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