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 headforemost 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.
