Tarzan of the Apes
I had this story from one who had no
business to tell it to me, or to any other. I may credit the seductive
influence of an old vintage upon the narrator for the beginning of it, and my
own skeptical incredulity during the days that followed for the balance of the
strange tale.
When
my convivial host discovered that he had told me so much, and that I was prone
to doubtfulness, his foolish pride assumed the task the old vintage had
commenced, and so he unearthed written evidence in the form of a musty manuscript,
and dry official records of the British Colonial Office to support many of the
salient features of his remarkable narrative.
I
do not say the story is true, for I did not witness the happenings which it
portrays, but the fact that in the telling of it to you I have taken fictitious
names for the principal characters quite sufficiently evidences the sincerity
of my own belief that it MAY be true.
The
yellow, mildewed pages of the diary of a man long dead, and the records of the
Colonial Office dovetail perfectly with the narrative of my convivial host, and
so I give you the story as I painstakingly pieced it out from these several
various agencies.
If
you do not find it credible you will at least be as one with me in
acknowledging that it is unique, remarkable, and interesting.
From
the records of the Colonial Office and from the dead man's diary we learn that
a certain young English nobleman, whom we shall call John Clayton, Lord
Greystoke, was commissioned to make a peculiarly delicate investigation of
conditions in a British West Coast African Colony from whose simple native
inhabitants another European power was known to be recruiting soldiers for its
native army, which it used solely for the forcible collection of rubber and
ivory from the savage tribes along the Congo and the Aruwimi. The natives of
the British Colony complained that many of their young men were enticed away
through the medium of fair and glowing promises, but that few if any ever
returned to their families.
The
Englishmen in Africa went even further, saying that these poor blacks were held
in virtual slavery, since after their terms of enlistment expired their
ignorance was imposed upon by their white officers, and they were told that
they had yet several years to serve.
And
so the Colonial Office appointed John Clayton to a new post in British West
Africa, but his confidential instructions centred on a thorough investigation
of the unfair treatment of black British subjects by the officers of a friendly
European power. Why he was sent, is, however, of little moment to this story,
for he never made an investigation, nor, in fact, did he ever reach his
destination.
Clayton
was the type of Englishman that one likes best to associate with the noblest
monuments of historic achievement upon a thousand victorious battlefields: a
strong, virile man, mentally, morally, and physically.
In
stature he was above the average height; his eyes were grey, his features
regular and strong; his carriage that of perfect, robust health influenced by
his years of army training.
Political
ambition had caused him to seek transference from the army to the Colonial
Office and so we find him, still young, entrusted with a delicate and important
commission in the service of the Queen.
When
he received this appointment he was both elated and appalled. The preferment
seemed to him in the nature of a well-merited reward for painstaking and
intelligent service, and as a stepping stone to posts of greater importance and
responsibility; but, on the other hand, he had been married to the Hon. Alice
Rutherford for scarce three months, and it was the thought of taking this fair
young girl into the dangers and isolation of tropical Africa that appalled him.
For
her sake he would have refused the appointment, but she would not have it so.
Instead she insisted that he accept, and, indeed, take her with him.
There
were mothers and brothers and sisters, and aunts and cousins to express various
opinions on the subject, but as to what they severally advised history is
silent.
We
know only that on a bright May morning in 1888, John, Lord Greystoke, and Lady
Alice sailed from Dover on their way to Africa.
A
month later they arrived at Freetown where they chartered a small sailing
vessel, the Fuwalda, which was to bear them to their final destination.
