The Kennewick courier. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1905-1914, 1914-01-30
CHAPTER XIII.
The Jungle Toll.

The Jungle Toll.
ARLY the following morning
II Tarzan awoke. and the first
IL thought of the new day. as the
last Of yesterday. was Of the
wonderful writing which lay hidden in
his culver.
Hurriedly he brought it forth. hop
ing against hope that he could read
what the beautiful white girl had writ
ten there the preceding evening.
At the first glace he suffered the bit
terest disappointment of his whole life.
He was baff1ed by strange. uncouth
characters the like of which he had
never seen before. Why, they even
tipped in the opposite direction from
all that he had ever examined either
in printed books or the difficult script
of the few letters he had found.
For twenty minutes he pored over
them. when suddenly they commenced
to take familiar though distorted
shapes. All. they were his old friends.
but badly crippled!
Then he began to make out word
here and a word there. His heart
ieaped for Joy. He could read it. and
he would.
In another half hour he was pro-
crossing rapidly. and. but for an e1-
ceptional word now and again he found
it very plain sailing.
Here is what he read:
West coast of Africa, about 10 degrees
FEBRUARY SOD. 1909.
Dearest Hazel-It seems foolish to write
you a letter that you may never see. but l
simply must tell somebody Of our awful
experiences since we sailed from Europe
on the I'll fated Arrow.
If we never return to civilization, as
now seems only too likely. this will at
least prove a brief record of the events
which led up to our fate. whatever 1t
may be.
AS you know, we were supposed to have
set out upon a scientific expedition to the
Kongo. Papa was presumed to entertain
some wondrous theory Of an unthinkable
ancient civilization. the remains of which
lay buried somewhere in the Kongo val
ley. But after we were well under sail
the truth came out.
1t seems that an old bookworm who has
a book and curio shop in Baltimore dis
Spanish manuscript a letter written in
1850, detailing the adventures Of crew Of
mutineers Of Spanish galleon bound from
Spain to South America with vast treas
ure of "doubloons' and ''pieces Of eight,
1 suppose, for they certainly sound weird
and piraty.
The writer had been one of the crew,
and the letter was to his son, who was at
the time the letter was written master of
Spanish merchantmen.
Many years had elapsed SINCE the events
the letter narrated had transpired, and the
old man had become respected citizen OF
an obscure Spanish town. but the love of
gold was still so strong upon him that he
risked all to acquaint his son with the
means of attaining fabulous wealth for
them both.
The writer told how when but a week
out from Spain the crew had mutinied and
murdered every officer and man who OPP
posed them. They defeated their own
ends by this very act for there was none
left competent to navigate ship at sea-
They were blown hither and thither for
two months until. sick and dying Of sour
wy, starvation and thirst. they had been
wrecked on a small iSlet
The galleon was washed high upon the
beach, where she went to pieces but not
before the survivors. who numbered but
ten souls, had rescued one Of the great
chests of treasure.
This they buried well upon the island.
and for three years they lived there in
constant hope of being rescued
One by one they sickened and died until
only one man was left. the writer of the
letter
The men had built boat from the
wreckage of the galleon: but, having no
idea where the island was located. thew
had not dared to put to sea-
When all were dead except himself. how
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