Part 5 (2/2)

”A small Tarzan. We call him Jack.”

Leena grimaced in what might have been a smile. ”He is like your mate?”

”Well - yes. And your son? It is a son? ”

Leena snuffled, waved a negligent paw at the pair snarling and cuffing each other on the jungle floor. ”Like him. Proud. Strong. What can you expect from a male child? I want more. This time, a she. Small. Dainty. Like me.” With this, the huge ape encircled Jane in a crus.h.i.+ng embrace. Jane winced from the strength, but understood.

The struggle continued for some moments below the branch on which Jane and Leena perched, but without a definite outcome. Indeed, Jane thought, neither wanted a definite outcome. It was a test of strength and fort.i.tude with both seeming more than equal to the occasion. Companionably, they stopped their scuffling and shared a particularly succulent and unwary caterpillar that had wandered across their path.

Jane and Leena stared at each other in what would have pa.s.sed for unvoiced laughter in any civilized society, then the two went their ways. Jane told a panting and still enraged Tarzan that he was indeed, king of the bush, Lord of the Jungle, master of all he surveyed.

Leena undoubtedly told Nendat much the same, At my rate, both males left the common arena, r barking, stomping, wondering if their mates had ob- served with what valor each had conducted himself.

Tarzan swung easily into the tree beside Jane. It was rapidly growing dark. The pair climbed to the upper terrace, to find sleep for the night in the springy boughs.

”Sleep,” Tarzan told his mate gruffly. ”I will protect you as always.”

Jane found a comfortable bough and wedged herself in securely. ”Good night. Lord,” she said. ”Among all men, you are the bravest and strongest.”

Tarzan, settling into a comfortable position himself, muttered good-naturedly. It was something to have a mate who knew you were brave - strong - indomitable.

Months had pa.s.sed. The labor of the Waziri and the gold of Opar had rebuilt and refurnished the wasted homestead of the Greystokes; indeed, so much had been leftover that Tarzan had declared a holiday, and he and Jane had placed the plantation under the care of Basuli and had hied themselves off to London.

Actually, the trip was a combined one; both wanted very much to visit Jack, their son, now in his final year at Oxford. Lord Greystoke had matters of business which could be much better handled in person, and Jane, Lady Greystoke, had certain social obligations which were much better met by her ladys.h.i.+p, personally.

Now things had come to somewhat of a standstill. Tarzan ate his roast beef with a wry face, his Yorks.h.i.+re pudding not at all. Jane sat unhappily over her dessert, deciding that no matter how you named it, it was nothing more than a blob of vanilla pudding with a dash of raspberry jam deposited in the middle. ”They look at you” she told Tarzan.

Tarzan looked up from the trifle he'd been toying with. ”What, my dear?”

”The women” explained Jane. ”They look at you. As if you were some sort of a freak ora or something!”

Lord Greystoke smiled, had another bite of pudding. ”Not as good as I'd remembered it,” he told Jane, put ting his spoon aside. ”Jack looks very well, don't you think?”

”John, you're vain!” exclaimed his mate. ”You actually like those women looking at you!” Tarzan shoved his plate away, concealing a burp, with the greatest of gentility.

”And you, my darling, you've had your share of admirers. Although,” he continued, ”I can't say much for any of them. However, I'm sure the whole plot, the entire idea, must be most gratifying to a woman.”

”That's absolutely ridiculous!”

He smiled, gently. ”Then so must be these tickets. Transportation back to Africa!” He held the priceless paper in his hand.

”Oh, John!” ”Yes, my darlinga”

”You're such aa a fool?”

”Yes, dear.” Patiently, Lord Greystoke finished his trifle as Jane, Lady Greystoke, dropped a few more tears into her luncheon.

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