JAN OF THE JUNGLE & Its Sequel, Jan in India. Otis Adelbert Kline
and the surface of the stream.
Suddenly he shot out into the bright sunlight. Turning over, he looked about him and saw that he was in the middle of a narrow river, which apparently flowed straight into the solid rock. A few swift strokes took him to shore. He climbed the high bank, and when he reached the top, stopped in sudden amazement at what he saw. For he stood before the ruins of an immense building, the remaining walls of which were covered with gigantic bas-reliefs depicting strange, angular-looking human beings, some with heads like birds or animals, some with beards that reminded him of the detested Dr. Bracken, and some with not unhandsome human features. They seemed to be engaged in fighting each other, or in hunting strange beasts or birds.
Some of the tall columns of the facade were still standing, supporting fragments of ornamental cornices. Others had fallen and broken into cylindrical sections.
Guarding the portal of this strange edifice, on either side, were two colossal statues with bodies that were human in form, but one had a face like a hawk’s and the other like that of a dog. They resembled the two statues he had seen beneath the waterfall, but were much larger.
Leading to this portal were the remains of a paved avenue now broken and weed-grown. Along each side of this highway was a row of pedestals, on some of which stood statues of grotesque monster, half beast, half human. Others had fallen or been overturned, and their cracked and shattered fragments were strewn about among the weeds and broken fragments of paving slabs.
Thrilled with awe and wonder at these strange sights, Jan was slowly advancing toward the portal when he caught the guarded movement of something creeping toward him in the undergrowth at his right. He whipped out his machete and paused, watching breathlessly. Then he saw another movement as something passed through the undergrowth on his left.
Suddenly two great shaggy creatures bounded out onto the sparsely grown avenue and closed in on him. They were manlike and yet apelike in form with long bushy beards and hairy bodies. One brandished a huge club menacingly, while the other hurled a large rock fragment straight at the boy’s head.
Jan managed to dodge the missile, and turned to flee. But he had not taken more than a dozen leaps when a third hairy monster sprang in front of him, barring his progress, and swung for his head with a heavy cudgel.
Chapter 11. The Jungle Demon
When she saw the bedraggled and blood-soaked condition of her charge, Ramona’s old duenna threw up her hands and shrieked in holy terror. Ramona’s dress was smeared with mud in the back and with blood in front The cloth which she had ripped away to use for binding Jan’s wounds left a rent that exposed the peach-tinted silk clinging to her trim little figure, which was also considerably spotted with gore.
Don Fernando, who had been walking in the patio nearby, smoking one of his long, slim cigars, came dashing up just as Señora Soledade swooned away.
“Carramba!” he exclaimed, dropping his cigar and catching Ramona in his arms, to the detriment of his immaculate white suit. “Tell me what has happened, my little one! Where are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt, daddy,” replied Ramona, “but Señora Soledade has fainted.”
“Not hurt! But this blood! These soiled, torn clothes! I don’t understand!”
“It is not my blood, daddy. It’s Jan’s. He saved me from the puma.”
“Madre de Dios! Jan? The puma? What is all this? Tell me, quickly, or I, too, shall collapse!”
“But first let us attend the señora.”
At this moment, Señora Soledade sat up and gazed wildly about her.
Don Fernando stood his daughter on her feet, and gallantly hurried forward to help the old lady. But when she saw the blood on his white suit she shrieked, and seemed about to swoon again.
“Come, come,” he said. “Be brave. Ramona is all right and so am I.”
“But the blood! The—”
“There, there!”
He piloted her gently through the patio gate, seated her on a bench, and returned.
“Now child,” he said. “This puma. This Jan. Tell me about them.”
“Come with me and I’ll show you the puma,” she answered. “It’s dead.”
She related the story of her adventure to her father, as she led him to where the dead carnivore lay. Don Fernando listened gravely to her story, and examined the fallen feline with interest.
“A giant of its kind, that beast,” he said. “A terrible foe. And you say it was slain by a mere boy?”
“I didn’t say a mere boy,” replied Ramona reprovingly. “He was magnificent.”
“Yes, of course my little one. A gallant knight who came to your rescue. But for him I would have lost you.” He threw his arm around her and drew her close. “I wish I could reward him.”
“And why can’t you?”
“Your description of him… Do you know who he is?”
“To be sure. He is Jan. He told me so.”
“Yes, but your description of him: red hair, a garment of jaguar skin. He is the wild boy who has slain so many natives during the past two years. Many strange tales have been told about him. When first seen he had two companions —a giant black man and a great hairy ape. Both of these wore jaguar-skin garments, also. They terrorized a small Indian community, killing several. Since then the boy has been seen once or twice with the great ape, but mostly he travels alone. No one knows what has become of the black giant. Do you know what they call this boy?”
“No.”
“They call him the jungle Demon. Some say he is half man, half jaguar. He travels with equal facility on the ground or through the tree tops. When an Indian is found dead, stripped of his weapons and ornaments, they say: ‘It is the jungle Demon again.’ He is more fierce, more terrible and more dangerous than the puma he has slain. All men are his enemies.”
“But he said he liked me.”
“Carramba! Did he? Then promise me this: that you will never leave the house or patio again unless I or one of the men go with you, armed. Some day he will come to steal you—to carry you off to his jungle lair to a horrible fate. It would be a terrible blow to your mother and me, and to poor old Señora Soledade. Won’t you do this much for us? Won’t you promise?”
Don Fernando had long since learned that threats or commands meant nothing to Ramona, but that she could be appealed to in a reasonable manner, and that if she made a promise, that promise would be carried out.
“I don’t know, daddy,” she answered. “I so love to get away by myself once in a while.”
“Yes, I know. But think of the danger. And think of your mother and father, and of your old duenna, who loves you.”
“All right daddy, I’ll promise.”
And so they went into the patio, arm in arm.
As the first man-monster of the ruined temple struck at him with his cudgel, Jan, who had often dodged the swift blow of a jaguar’s paw, easily eluded his clumsy swing. The force of the blow turned the hairy one part way around. Jan leaped in and dealt him a blow on the back of his neck with the keen machete. The monster fell on his face without a sound, his spinal column severed by the sharp blade.
With savage yells the other two closed in to avenge their fallen comrade, but Jan was already running swiftly toward the river.
Sheathing his weapon, he sprang from the top of the bank, in a long, graceful dive. He swam frog-like beneath the surface until a shadow above him told him that he had entered the underground