JAN was awakened by a low cry of warning from Chicma. Then he heard the sound of human voices. The darkness had passed, and a pink glow heralded the coming of the sun.
The voices grew louder—closer, and there were crashing sounds in the underbrush all around them. As these drew nearer, Chicma, calling softly to the boy to follow, made a sudden rush to break through the narrowing circle.
As she leaped out of the bushes, the ape tried to dart between two men who stood about ten feet apart. One was a swarthy fellow with a small mustache. The other was jet black, and gigantic in stature. But as she ran forward, the two suddenly lifted a net which they had been trailing between them, and in a moment she was struggling in its meshes which the two men drew tighter and tighter around her.
Bewildered by the strange sights and sounds, Jan dashed off into the undergrowth, but when he saw that Chicma had been caught he paused, hoping to see her break away. As it became increasingly evident to him that she would not be able to do this unaided, he snarled like an enraged animal—then charged.
The two men were bending over Chicma as she thrashed on the ground, attempting to put ropes on her. Four others, three with brown skins and one with a bushy yellow beard, were running toward them carrying nets and ropes. Paying no heed to these reinforcements, Jan leaped on the back of the man nearest him—the swarthy fellow with the little mustache—and growling and snarling like a jungle beast, attacked him with teeth and nails.
But the yellow-bearded giant ran up behind him and pulled him off.
Quick as a flash, Jan turned on this new enemy and sank his teeth into the hairy forearm. With an exclamation of pain and anger, the big man jabbed a huge fist into the boy’s midriff, causing him to let go his hold and gasp for breath. The fist flashed out a second time, colliding with his jaw, and Jan’s whirling senses left him.
Jan did not know when he was bundled aboard the ship, nor could he know that his jailer of sixteen years, Dr. Bracken, had resumed his trailing, after daybreak, just a bit too late. The signs of struggle and capture were plain enough, and Bracken furiously followed the tracks down to the shore, where the marks of a boat’s prow were etched deep in the sand. Looking out across the bay he saw a small schooner flying the flag of Venezuela. He could not make out her name. Even as he looked, her sails were raised and her anchor hoisted. Then slowly, gracefully, the vessel sailed around the point and southward. The half-maddened doctor knew that for the time being, at least, his vengeful pursuit was balked.
When Jan recovered consciousness once more, he was in a strange half-dark place of queer sights, sounds, smells and motions. There was a thick collar around his neck, fastened by a heavy chain to a large ring in the planking behind him. A little way from him; and trying to reach him, but held by her chain in a similar manner to a ring on the opposite side of the space they occupied, was Chicma.
She called softly to him, and when he answered, seemed satisfied by the assurance that he was alive, and quit tugging at her chain.
Through the cracks between the boards on, which he lay, and which constantly lurched under him with a motion that gave Jan a most unpleasant feeling, he could hear the swishing of bilge water, which stank abominably. Some mildewed excelsior had been scattered over the planking, and the sour odor of this only increased the wave of nausea that swept over him.
For hours that seemed interminable, he lay there, constantly swayed by the lurching of the ship, and suffering in silence.
Then a hatch was raised there was the sound of voices and footsteps descending the ladder, and the swarthy man with the little mustache, came through the door. Just behind him was the huge individual with the yellow beard.
Jan instinctively hated all men with beards because Dr. Bracken was bearded. And to top this instinctive dislike was the fact that this particular bearded man had injured him.
The two men were talking. But Jan, of course, was unable to understand them. The fact that they were looking at him, however, was enough. He growled menacingly.
“I’ll be hanged if that kid ain’t wilder than the chimpanzee,” said Jake Grubb. He walked closer to Jan and held out a hand placatingly. “Come here, boy. What’s yer name?”
Jan bared his teeth with a fierce snarl, and snapped at the hand which was hastily withdrawn.
“Blood of the devil!” exclaimed Santos with mock-consternation. “Look out, señor. You will be devoured.”
“You know, captain, I b’lieve this kid’ll make a better drawin’ card than the ape,” said Grubb. “We kin show ’em in a cage together—the African wild man and the African ape. We’ll have to make the boy some kind of a breech clout or skirt out of hide.”
“So amigo? And who weel persuade heem to wear it?”
“I’ll make him wear it or break his back,” replied Grubb.