Man Or Monster?

: The Monster Men

When Muda Saffir turned from the two Dyaks who had brought him news of

the treasure he hastened to the long-house and arousing the chief of

the tribe who domiciled there explained that necessity required that

the rajah have at once two war prahus fully manned. Now the power of

the crafty old Malay extended from one end of this great river on which

the long-house lay to the other, and though not all the tribes admitted

allegiance to him, yet there were few who would not furnish him with

men and boats when he required them; for his piratical cruises carried

him often up and down the stream, and with his savage horde it was

possible for him to wreak summary and terrible vengeance upon those who

opposed him.



When he had explained his wishes to the chief, the latter, though at

heart hating and fearing Muda Saffir, dared not refuse; but to a second

proposition he offered strong opposition until the rajah threatened to

wipe out his entire tribe should he not accede to his demands.



The thing which the chief demurred to had occurred to Muda Saffir even

as he walked back from the river after conversing with the two Dyak

messengers. The thought of regaining the treasure, the while he

administered punishment to the traitorous Ninaka, filled his soul with

savage happiness. Now if he could but once more possess himself of the

girl! And why not? There was only the sick old man, a Chinaman and

von Horn to prevent it, and the chances were that they all were asleep.



So he explained to the chief the plan that had so suddenly sprung to

his wicked mind.



"Three men with parangs may easily quiet the old man, his assistant and

the Chinaman," he said, "and then we can take the girl along with us."



The chief refused at first, point-blank, to be a party to any such

proceedings. He knew what had happened to the Sakkaran Dyaks after

they had murdered a party of Englishmen, and he did not purpose laying

himself and his tribe open to the vengeance of the white men who came

in many boats and with countless guns and cannon to take a terrible

toll for every drop of white blood spilled.



So it was that Muda Saffir was forced to compromise, and be satisfied

with the chief's assistance in abducting the girl, for it was not so

difficult a matter to convince the head hunter that she really had

belonged to the rajah, and that she had been stolen from him by the old

man and the doctor.



Virginia slept in a room with three Dyak women. It was to this

apartment that the chief finally consented to dispatch two of his

warriors. The men crept noiselessly within the pitch dark interior

until they came to the sleeping form of one of the Dyak women.

Cautiously they awoke her.



"Where is the white girl?" asked one of the men in a low whisper.

"Muda Saffir has sent us for her. Tell her that her father is very

sick and wants her, but do not mention Muda Saffir's name lest she

might not come."



The whispering awakened Virginia and she lay wondering what the cause

of the midnight conference might be, for she recognized that one of the

speakers was a man, and there had been no man in the apartment when she

had gone to sleep earlier in the night.



Presently she heard some one approach her, and a moment later a woman's

voice addressed her; but she could not understand enough of the native

tongue to make out precisely the message the speaker wished to convey.

The words "father," "sick," and "come," however she finally understood

after several repetitions, for she had picked up a smattering of the

Dyak language during her enforced association with the natives.



The moment that the possibilities suggested by these few words dawned

upon her, she sprang to her feet and followed the woman toward the door

of the apartment. Immediately without the two warriors stood upon the

verandah awaiting their victim, and as Virginia passed through the

doorway she was seized roughly from either side, a heavy hand was

clapped over her mouth, and before she could make even an effort to

rebel she had been dragged to the end of the verandah, down the notched

log to the ground and a moment later found herself in a war prahu which

was immediately pushed into the stream.



Since Virginia had come to the long-house after her rescue from the

ourang outangs, supposedly by von Horn, Rajah Muda Saffir had kept very

much out of sight, for he knew that should the girl see him she would

recognize him as the man who had stolen her from the Ithaca. So it

came as a mighty shock to the girl when she heard the hated tones of

the man whom she had knocked overboard from the prahu two nights

before, and realized that the bestial Malay sat close beside her, and

that she was again in his power. She looked now for no mercy, nor

could she hope to again escape him so easily as she had before, and so

she sat with bowed head in the bottom of the swiftly moving craft,

buried in anguished thoughts, hopeless and miserable.



Along the stretch of black river that the prahu and her consort covered

that night Virginia Maxon saw no living thing other than a single

figure in a small sampan which hugged the shadows of the shore as the

two larger boats met and passed it, nor answered their hail.



Where von Horn and his two Dyak guides had landed, Muda Saffir's force

disembarked and plunged into the jungle. Rapidly they hastened along

the well known trail toward the point designated by the two messengers,

to come upon the spot almost simultaneously with the party under

Barunda's uncle, who, startled by the two shots several hours

previously, had been cautiously searching through the jungle for an

explanation of them.



They had gone warily for fear that they might stumble upon Ninaka's

party before Muda Saffir arrived with reinforcements, and but just now

had they discovered the prostrate forms of their two companions. One

was dead, but the other was still conscious and had just sufficient

vitality left after the coming of his fellows to whisper that they had

been treacherously shot by the younger white man who had been at the

long-house where they had found Muda Saffir--then the fellow expired

without having an opportunity to divulge the secret hiding place of the

treasure, over the top of which his body lay.



Now Bulan had been an interested witness of all that transpired. At

first he had been inclined to come out of his hiding place and follow

von Horn, but so much had already occurred beneath the branches of the

great tree where the chest lay hidden that he decided to wait until

morning at least, for he was sure that he had by no means seen the last

of the drama which surrounded the heavy box. This belief was

strengthened by the haste displayed by both Ninaka and von Horn to

escape the neighborhood as quickly as possible, as though they feared

that they might be apprehended should they delay even for a moment.



Number Three and Number Twelve still slept, not having been aroused

even by the shots fired by von Horn. Bulan himself had dozed after the

departure of the doctor, but the advent of Barunda's uncle with his

followers had awakened him, and now he lay wide eyed and alert as the

second party, under Muda Saffir, came into view when they left the

jungle trail and entered the clearing.



His interest in either party was but passive until he saw the khaki

blouse, short skirt and trim leggins of the captive walking between two

of the Dyaks of Muda Saffir's company. At the same instant he

recognized the evil features of the rajah as those of the man who had

directed the abduction of Virginia Maxon from the wrecked Ithaca.



Like a great cat Bulan drew himself cautiously to all fours--every

nerve and muscle taut with the excitement of the moment. Before him he

saw a hundred and fifty ferocious Borneo head hunters, armed with

parangs, spears and sumpitans. At his back slept two almost brainless

creatures--his sole support against the awful odds he must face before

he could hope to succor the divinity whose image was enshrined in his

brave and simple heart.



The muscles stood out upon his giant forearm as he gripped the stock of

his bull whip. He believed that he was going to his death, for mighty

as were his thews he knew that in the face of the horde they would

avail him little, yet he saw no other way than to sit supinely by while

the girl went to her doom, and that he could not do. He nudged Number

Twelve. "Silence!" he whispered, and "Come! The girl is here. We

must save her. Kill the men," and the same to the hairy and terrible

Number Three.



Both the creatures awoke and rose to their hands and knees without

noise that could be heard above the chattering of the natives, who had

crowded forward to view the dead bodies of von Horn's victims.

Silently Bulan came to his feet, the two monsters at his back rising

and pressing close behind him. Along the denser shadows the three

crept to a position in the rear of the natives. The girl's guards had

stepped forward with the others to join in the discussion that followed

the dying statement of the murdered warrior, leaving her upon the outer

fringe of the crowd.



For an instant a sudden hope of escape sprang to Virginia Maxon's

mind--there was none between her and the jungle through which they had

just passed. Though unknown dangers lurked in the black and uncanny

depths of the dismal forest, would not death in any form be far

preferable to the hideous fate which awaited her in the person of the

bestial Malay pirate?



She had turned to take the first step toward freedom when three figures

emerged from the wall of darkness behind her. She saw the war-caps,

shields, and war-coats, and her heart sank. Here were others of the

rajah's party--stragglers who had come just in time to thwart her

plans. How large these men were--she never had seen a native of such

giant proportions; and now they had come quite close to her, and as the

foremost stooped to speak to her she shrank back in fear. Then, to her

surprise, she heard in whispered English; "Come quietly, while they are

not looking."



She thought the voice familiar, but could not place it, though her

heart whispered that it might belong to the young stranger of her

dreams. He reached out and took her hand and together they turned and

walked quickly toward the jungle, followed by the two who had

accompanied him.



Scarcely had they covered half the distance before one of the Dyaks

whose duty it had been to guard the girl discovered that she was gone.

With a cry he alarmed his fellows, and in another instant a sharp pair

of eyes caught the movement of the four who had now broken into a run.



With savage shouts the entire force of head hunters sprang in pursuit.

Bulan lifted Virginia in his arms and dashed on ahead of Number Twelve

and Number Three. A shower of poisoned darts blown from half a hundred

sumpitans fell about them, and then Muda Saffir called to his warriors

to cease using their deadly blow-pipes lest they kill the girl.



Into the jungle dashed the four while close behind them came the

howling pack of enraged savages. Now one closed upon Number Three only

to fall back dead with a broken neck as the giant fingers released

their hold upon him. A parang swung close to Number Twelve, but his

own, which he had now learned to wield with fearful effect, clove

through the pursuing warrior's skull splitting him wide to the breast

bone.



Thus they fought the while they forced their way deeper and deeper into

the dark mazes of the entangled vegetation. The brunt of the running

battle was borne by the two monsters, for Bulan was carrying Virginia,

and keeping a little ahead of his companions to insure the girl's

greater safety.



Now and then patches of moonlight filtering through occasional openings

in the leafy roofing revealed to Virginia the battle that was being

waged for possession of her, and once, when Number Three turned toward

her after disposing of a new assailant, she was horrified to see the

grotesque and terrible face of the creature. A moment later she caught

sight of Number Twelve's hideous face. She was appalled.



Could it be that she had been rescued from the Malay to fall into the

hands of creatures equally heartless and entirely without souls? She

glanced up at the face of him who carried her. In the darkness of the

night she had not yet had an opportunity to see the features of the

man, but after a glimpse at those of his two companions she trembled to

think of the hideous thing that might be revealed to her.



Could it be that she had at last fallen into the hands of the dreaded

and terrible Number Thirteen! Instinctively she shrank from contact

with the man in whose arms she had been carried without a trace of

repugnance until the thought obtruded itself that he might be the

creature of her father's mad experimentation, to whose arms she had

been doomed by the insane obsession of her parent.



The man shifted her now to give himself freer use of his right arm, for

the savages were pressing more closely upon Twelve and Three, and the

change made it impossible for the girl to see his face even in the more

frequent moonlit places.



But she could see the two who ran and fought just behind them, and she

shuddered at her inevitable fate. For should the three be successful

in bearing her away from the Dyaks she must face an unknown doom, while

should the natives recapture her there was the terrible Malay into

whose clutches she had already twice fallen.



Now the head hunters were pressing closer, and suddenly, even as the

girl looked directly at him, a spear passed through the heart of Number

Three. Clutching madly at the shaft protruding from his misshapen body

the grotesque thing stumbled on for a dozen paces, and then sank to the

ground as two of the brown warriors sprang upon him with naked parangs.

An instant later Virginia Maxon saw the hideous and grisly head

swinging high in the hand of a dancing, whooping savage.



The man who carried her was now forced to turn and fight off the enemy

that pressed forward past Number Twelve. The mighty bull whip whirled

and cracked across the heads and faces of the Dyaks. It was a

formidable weapon when backed by the Herculean muscles that rolled and

shifted beneath Bulan's sun-tanned skin, and many were the brown

warriors that went down beneath its cruel lash.



Virginia could see that the creature who bore her was not deformed of

body, but she shrank from the thought of what a sight of his face might

reveal. How much longer the two could fight off the horde at their

heels the girl could not guess; and as a matter of fact she was

indifferent to the outcome of the strange, running battle that was

being waged with herself as the victor's spoil.



The country now was becoming rougher and more open. The flight seemed

to be leading into a range of low hills, where the jungle grew less

dense, and the way rocky and rugged. They had entered a narrow canyon

when Number Twelve went down beneath a half dozen parangs. Again the

girl saw a bloody head swung on high and heard the fierce, wild chorus

of exulting victory. She wondered how long it would be ere the

creature beneath her would add his share to the grim trophies of the

hunt.



In the interval that the head hunters had paused to sever Number

Twelve's head, Bulan had gained fifty yards upon them, and then, of a

sudden, he came to a sheer wall rising straight across the narrow trail

he had been following. Ahead there was no way--a cat could scarce have

scaled that formidable barrier--but to the right he discerned what

appeared to be a steep and winding pathway up the canyon's side, and

with a bound he clambered along it to where it surmounted the rocky

wall.



There he turned, winded, to await the oncoming foe. Here was a spot

where a single man might defy an army, and Bulan had been quick to see

the natural advantages of it. He placed the girl upon her feet behind

a protruding shoulder of the canyon's wall which rose to a considerable

distance still above them. Then he turned to face the mob that was

surging up the narrow pathway toward him.



At his feet lay an accumulation of broken rock from the hillside above,

and as a spear sped, singing, close above his shoulder, the occurrence

suggested a use for the rough and jagged missiles which lay about him

in such profusion. Many of the pieces were large, weighing twenty and

thirty pounds, and some even as much as fifty. Picking up one of the

larger Bulan raised it high above his head, and then hurled it down

amongst the upclimbing warriors. In an instant pandemonium reigned,

for the heavy boulder had mowed down a score of the pursuers, breaking

arms and legs in its meteoric descent.



Missile after missile Bulan rained down upon the struggling, howling

Dyaks, until, seized by panic, they turned and fled incontinently down

into the depths of the canyon and back along the narrow trail they had

come, and then superstitious fear completed the rout that the flying

rocks had started, for one whispered to another that this was the

terrible Bulan and that he had but lured them on into the hills that he

might call forth all his demons and destroy them.



For a moment Bulan stood watching the retreating savages, a smile upon

his lips, and then as the sudden equatorial dawn burst forth he turned

to face the girl.



As Virginia Maxon saw the fine features of the giant where she had

expected to find the grotesque and hideous lineaments of a monster, she

gave a quick little cry of pleasure and relief.



"Thank God!" she cried fervently. "Thank God that you are a man--I

thought that I was in the clutches of the hideous and soulless monster,

Number Thirteen."



The smile upon the young man's face died. An expression of pain, and

hopelessness, and sorrow swept across his features. The girl saw the

change, and wondered, but how could she guess the grievous wound her

words had inflicted?