nk you for all that you have done for me."

The man only shook his head and pointed to the pencil and the bark.

"MON DIEU!" cried D'Arnot. "If you are English why is it then that you
cannot speak English?"

And then in a flash it came to him--the man was a mute, possibly a deaf
mute.

So D'Arnot wrote a message on the bark, in English.

I am Paul d'Arnot, Lieutenant in the navy of France. I thank you for
what you have done for me. You have saved my life, and all that I have
is yours. May I ask how it is that one who writes English does not
speak it?

Tarzan's reply filled D'Arnot with still greater wonder:

I speak only the language of my tribe--the great apes who were
Kerchak's; and a little of the languages of Tantor, the elephant, and
Numa, the lion, and of the other folks of the jungle I understand.
With a human being I have never spoken, except once with Jane Porter,
by signs. This is the first time I have spoken with another of my kind
through written words.

D'Arnot was mystified. It seemed incredible that there lived upon
earth a full-grown man who had never spoken with a fellow man, and
still more preposterous that such a one could read and write.

He looked again at Tarzan's message--"except once, with Jane Porter."
That was the American girl who had been carried into the jungle by a
gorilla.

A sudden light commenced to dawn on D'Arnot--this then was the
"gorilla." He seized the pencil and wrote:

Where is Jane Porter?

And Tarzan replied, below:

Back with her people in the cabin of Tarzan of the Apes.

She is not dead then? Where was she? What happened to her?

She is not dead. She was taken by Terkoz to be his wife; but Tarzan of
the Apes took her away from Terkoz and killed him before he could harm
her.

None in all the jungle may face Tarzan of the Apes in battle, and live.
I am Tarzan of the Apes--mighty fighter.

D'Arnot wrote:

I am glad she is safe. It pains me to write, I will rest a while.

And then Tarzan:

Yes, rest. When you are well I shall take you back to your people.

For many days D'Arnot lay upon his bed of soft ferns. The second day a
fever had come and D'Arnot thought that it meant infection and he knew
that he would die.

An idea came to him. He wondered why he had not thought of it before.

He called Tarzan and indicated by signs that he would write, and when
Tarzan had fetched the bark and pencil, D'Arnot wrote: