The Lad and the Lion (Annotated) E-Book

Edgar Rice Burroughs

• Herausgeber: Muhammad Humza
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

The Lad and the Lion by the most well-known author of the Tarzan series.  All of the words have been rewritten in a unique way to grab your interest. The best fictional novel.

Leseprobe

Edgar Rice Burroughs Biography

Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950) was an American adventure writer whose Tarzan stories created a folk hero known around the world. His novels sold more than 100 million copies in 56 languages, making him one of the most widely read authors of the twentieth century.

Edgar Rice Burroughs was born September 1, 1875, in Chicago, Illinois, to George Tyler and Mary Evaline (Zeiger) Burroughs. His father was successful in business, and worked as a distiller and a battery manufacturer. Burroughs was educated at private schools in Chicago and in the state of Michigan. After his graduation from the Michigan Military Academy, he joined the U.S. Cavalry for a tour of duty in Arizona in 1896. He was not suited to this life and, thanks to his father's wealth and position, he left the military the following year. He briefly owned a stationary store in Idaho before moving back to Chicago and a position with the American Battery Company. Burroughs married Emma Centennia Hulbert on January 1, 1900; the couple would have three children: Joan, Hulbert, and John Coleman. A few years after the marriage, Burroughs again tried to seek his fortune in the West, holding various jobs in Idaho and Utah. By 1906, he was back in Chicago and working for Sears, Roebuck and Company. After several attempts to start his own business, Burroughs turned to writing as a career.

Many reviewers and biographers have often described Burroughs as a failed pencil-sharpener salesman who just wanted to support his wife and children when he began writing. Others note that it was the company that had failed, not Burroughs, and that he had succeeded in numerous jobs. In any case, Burroughs began his writing career with a Martian tale, best known by its hardback title: A Princess of Mars. The story was written in 1911, and published under the pseudonym Normal Bean (to let readers know he was not crazy and had a "normal bean") in All-Story magazine in 1912. The tale was not published in hardback until 1917. Astronomer Percival Lowell's theories of the canals of Mars were at the height of their popularity in 1911, and fired Burroughs' imagination. There were eleven books in the Mars series, the last of which, John Carter of Mars, was published fourteen years after the author's death.

The main character of the Mars series is John Carter, a gentleman from Virginia. In the first story, he falls into a cave only to wake up on the planet Mars-a sort of death that brings him to a new life. An adventurous man throughout the series, he saves women from villains, rescues the planet, and shows the various colored Martians that they need each other to survive. One year after the publication of A Princess of Mars in book form, Burroughs released The Gods of Mars. Additional installments of the John Carter saga appeared on a regular basis, including The Warlords of Mars (1919), Thuvia, Maid of Mars (1920), The Chessmen of Mars (1922), The Master Mind of Mars (1928), and A Fighting Man of Mars (1931). John Hollow, writing in the Dictionary of Literary Biography, praised the first three novels of the series as "a particularly fine instance of science fiction's attempt to cope with what Burroughs himself called 'the stern and unalterable cosmic laws,' the certainty that both individuals and whole races grow old and die."

Best Known for His Tarzan Books

The appearance of Burroughs' second published story, Tarzan of the Apes, in All-Story magazine in 1912, and the publication of the novel in hardcover form in 1914, made him a best-selling author. Thereafter, he devoted himself exclusively to writing. Although Burroughs wrote almost all types of popular fiction, he is perhaps most famous for the Tarzan series. The lead character, Tarzan, is the son of an English noble who is adopted by a female ape in the African jungle. He learns English, grows into manhood, meets and falls in love with Jane, the daughter of an American scientist, and recovers his title-all in the first two of 26 stories.

Tarzan of the Apes captured the public's imagination and the series proved to be a success. Only a few fictional heroes, such as Robin Hood and Superman, are as famous as Tarzan. People might not remember the author, but most everyone, including small children, recognize the name of the main character, often responding with a Tarzan-like yell. The Tarzan stories have been translated into more than 56 languages, and reportedly more than 25,000,000 copies of the Tarzan books have been sold worldwide. Burroughs' novels were so financially rewarding that he was able to open his own publishing house, named after himself and called Burroughs. Beginning with the 1931 release, Tarzan the Invincible, he published his own works.

The character of Tarzan has been the subject of comic strips, radio serials, three television series, and at least 40 movies, including a Disney animated film and a 1998 spoof, George of the Jungle. Tarzan of the Apes was first made into a silent film in 1918, with Elmo Lincoln as Tarzan. More than a dozen actors have since starred in the role, the most popular having been Johnny Weissmuller, a former Olympic swimming champion. Most of the actors in Tarzan films were in fine physical shape, but they still faced risks. In the 1920 serial, The Son of Tarzan, Hawaiian actor Kamuela Searle was seriously injured by an elephant and a stand-in had to be used to complete the film; Searle later died of his injuries.

Not Without Controversy

Burroughs and his Tarzan character have not been without controversy. Burroughs, who himself has been accused of racism in his portrayal of Africa, disliked how films usually made Tarzan a grunting savage. He portrayed Tarzan in his novels as an erudite and wealthy heir to the House of Greystoke, equally at home in the jungle or polite society. Novels such as The Return of Tarzan (1915), The Beasts of Tarzan (1916), Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar (1918), and Tarzan and the Golden Lion (1923) continued this tradition. The last volume in the series, Tarzan and the Castaways, was released in 1965. As George P. Elliott noted in the Hudson Review, Burroughs' "prejudices are so gross that no one bothers to analyze them out or to attack them.... They were clear-eyed, well-thewed prejudices arrayed only in a loin cloth; you can take them or leave them, unless your big prejudice happens to be anti-prejudice. What matters is the story, which tastes good."

Burroughs' Tarzan series received other criticism. Although a favorite with readers, the Tarzan books have been dismissed by literary critics as cheap pulp fiction. Brian Attebury, writing in The Fantasy Tradition in American Literature: From Irving to Le Guin, commented: "Burroughs was neither more nor less than a good storyteller, with as much power-and finesse-as a bulldozer." Details of the Tarzan books have come under scrutiny, and even anthropologists have taken Burroughs to task, insisting that he was wrong in writing that great apes raised Tarzan. They insisted that the young Tarzan could not possibly have learned to swing through the trees so gracefully with a chimpanzee as his tutor. For him to have achieved such agility his instructor must have been an orangutan. Burroughs fans argue, however, that the apes in the Tarzan series were neither chimpanzees nor orangutans but a man-like invention of the author. Burroughs himself claimed that he never tried to do more than entertain his readers, and was honest about his need for money. "I had a wife and two babies," he once explained.

Burroughs envisioned his Tarzan stories as wholesome family entertainment. Not all portrayals of Tarzan have had the family in mind, however, and Burroughs' descendants, who still run the company bearing his name from Tarzana, California (an estate near Hollywood, California, Burroughs bought in 1919 and later named), have found it necessary to go to court. In 1996, for example, the family filed a law suit against the makers of "Jungle Heat," alleging that the interactive CD-ROM was "the antithesis to the good, wholesome and attractive images of Tarzan," as noted in the Los Angeles Times. There have been countless imitations of Tarzan, such as a jungle man called Tongo on the television series Gilligan's Island, and a Listerine commercial in which a Tarzan-like character swings on a vine barefoot while in a tuxedo. But many of these imitations are either protected by the legal safeguards for satire, or use material in the public domain-fair game after the expiration of copyright protection, which is limited in time. But Burroughs not only copyrighted the books, he covered the character of Tarzan with a trademark-which does not expire. In 1923, the author founded the family corporation, establishing the trademark to forever control products that used the name or likeness of Tarzan, from movies to comic books and T-shirts.

Later Career and Other Novels

Later in his career, Burroughs began corresponding with scientists to learn all that was known about the planet Venus. Provided with these ideas, he started a new series. Beginning with the publication of Pirates of Venus in 1934, Burroughs published four more volumes in this set, including Lost on Venus (1935), Carson of Venus (1939), and Escape from Venus (1946). His last book in the series, The Wizard of Venus, was released in 1970. As the first book in the Venus series was getting published, Burroughs divorced his wife of 34 years; he married his second wife, Florence Dearholt, in 1935.

Burroughs also wrote four western adventure stories, all carefully researched and based on his experience as a cowboy on his older brothers' ranch in Idaho as a young man and as a cavalry soldier in Arizona. Some critics consider these the best of his writing, particularly the sympathetic treatment of Geronimo and his renegade Apaches. Among the novels written in this genre include Apache Devil (1933) and The Deputy Sheriff of Comanche County (1940).

Burroughs continued to write novels for the rest of his life, ultimately publishing some 68 titles in all. During World War II, he served as a journalist with the United Press and, at age 66, was the oldest war correspondent covering the South Pacific theater. Burroughs died of a heart attack on March 19, 1950. A number of his novels were published posthumously. Even after his death, Burroughs remained a popular author, and he sold millions of books in paperback.

The University of Louisville Library owns the largest institutional archive of Burroughs' works. The collection contains more than 67,000 items ranging in scope from the author's earliest school books to promotional materials from the 1990s. The library's collection of Tarzan memorabilia includes film stills and posters featuring 19 Tarzan actors. It also includes the best and most celebrated book artists, including J. Allen St. John, who illustrated a total of 33 first editions of Burroughs. Other artists featured in the collection include Frank Frazetta, whose works adorned the first paperback Burroughs books of the 1960s, and John Coleman Burroughs, the author's son, who illustrated eleven first editions of his father's stories. The collection also includes items from Burroughs' personal life and affairs, samples of his books, pulp editions, letters, merchandising goods and many photographs taken over the last 100 years.

Table of Contents

Title

About

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter

1

A stately pile of ancient masonry rose in a great park of linden trees and ash and oak. There were broad, formal gardens and great expanses of level sward. There were gleaming marble fountains throwing their shimmering waters into the warm sunlight. There were men in uniform standing guard-tall, splendid fellows. A sad-faced old man walked along neat gravelled pathways through the gardens, past the marble fountains. He was a very erect old man whose unbending shoulders and firm gait belied his age, for he was really a very old man. At the old man's side walked a little boy; and when the two approached them, the soldiers snapped their burnished pieces smartly in salute.

The old man was inordinately proud of the little boy. That was why he liked to have him walk with him in the gardens and down near the great gates where people often gathered to see them as they passed. He liked to have him ride with him through the city in one of the royal carriages where all the people might see him; for when the old man died, the little boy would be king.

"The people seem to like us," said the boy, as they passed the gates and the crowd waved and smiled and cheered. "That is why I cannot understand why they killed my father."

"They do not all like us," said the old man.

"Why don't they?" asked the boy.

"It is not so much that they do not like us as that they do not like kings. They believe that they, who know nothing about ruling, can rule better than we who are trained to rule and whose families have ruled for centuries."

"Well," said the boy, with finality, "they like you; and when I am king, I shall try to rule as you have."

"I could wish that you might never be king," said the old man, bitterly. "It is a thankless job, Michael."

Three men sat on the verandah of a hunting lodge in the cool woods a few miles from the capital. One was a little, myopic man with horn-rimmed spectacles and thin, disordered hair that had not known shears for many weeks. His collar was soiled; so was his shirt, but most of that which showed in the V of his coat collar was hidden by a Windsor tie. He was a mussy little man with mussy clothes and trousers which made him appear about to jump, when he stood. His mind, however, was not mussy. Its facts were well ordered and easily accessible to a glib tongue which could marshal them in any formation that seemed best adapted to the occasion; on it, all facts seemed plastic, assuming any guise the little man desired to give them. Often the little facts' own mothers would not have recognized them.

The other two men were in easy tweeds; loose, comfortable clothes that did not, however, look as though they had been cut to fit someone else, or no one, as did the little man's; also, they were well barbered, and their linen was clean-and linen.

"Your highness will understand," said the little man, "that in the event of an accident which removed the king and Prince Michael we are to have a new constitution, a far more liberal constitution, and that the representatives of the people shall have the deciding voice in government."

The older of the other two nodded. "I understand, Meyer," he said.

"And agree?"

"Certainly. I presume you will be chancellor when I am king?"

"That is understood," said Meyer. "My associates, who collaborated with me in drawing up the new constitution, would insist upon it."

"So the constitution is already drawn," said the younger man, a little testily. "Would it not be well to let his highness see and approve it?"

"That will not be necessary," said Meyer.

"Why?" demanded the younger man.

"Because my associates would not brook any changes in this document into which they have put their best efforts," replied Meyer, suavely.

"Rubbish!" exclaimed the young man. "Why don't you come right out and say the king will be nothing but a figurehead-that you will, in reality, be king?"

"At least, the new king will be alive," said Meyer.

"Come, come, Paul!" said the older man. "I am sure that everything that Meyer and his associates contemplate is in the best interests of the people and the country."

"Absolutely," assured Meyer.

"And we should interpose no obstacles," added H.R.H. Prince Otto.

The young Count Sarnya sniffed.

"We are peculiarly fortunate in being able to eliminate obstacles permanently," said Meyer, looking at Sarnya through the thick lenses of his glasses; "and now that everything is understood, I must be going. You know how to reach me if you think it necessary. I-always-know-how-to-reach-you. Good day, your highness; good day, Count Sarnya."

The older man nodded; the young man merely turned his back and walked toward the sideboard, where he poured himself a stiff drink. As the door closed behind Meyer, he gulped it down. "I want to get a bad taste out of my mouth," he snapped; then he wheeled suddenly on the older man. "I thought you told me that it was to be only the old man; you were to be regent if anything happened to him. I didn't know you were going to murder the boy, too."

"Stop!" commanded Otto. "You are overwrought; you don't know what you're saying. I am going to murder no one-that is a nasty word. You know I have had nothing to do with this. They are going to do what they are going to do. No one can stop them. Can I help if it they have offered to make me king? What would have happened had I refused? They'd kill me, too; and Meyer could be dictator. I have had to do it to save the life of my dynasty for my country and my people!"

"Don't get heroic, Otto," said Sarnya. "I think I'll take another drink-I need another."

The morning sun was pouring through the east windows of the palace, presaging a perfect day, as Count Jagst entered the room in answer to the king's summons.

"Look at this, Jagst," said the old king, passing a paper to his chief of staff. "I found it on the floor just under the corridor door as I came in from my quarters."

General Count Jagst took the paper and opened it-a single sheet of note paper on which was typed: "For God's sake, Your Majesty, don't ride out today."

"Who's officer of the guard today?" asked the king. "Someone must have seen who slipped that paper under the door."

"I don't know," said Jagst. "I'll find out." He touched a button, and when a secretary came in response he told him to summon the officer of the guard.

"They're closing in on us, Jagst," said the king. "I don't care for myself-I'm old and tired-but Michael; he's such a little fellow to shoulder all this-and the intrigue and the constant danger to his life. Otto will be regent. That will be bad for the country. Otto never had good sense, and into the bargain he's a damned traitor. If he hadn't been my brother I'd have had him shot years ago-he has deserved it; always plotting against me, working with all my enemies. If anything happens to me, Jagst, take Michael out of the country until things quiet down. If he's needed and wanted, bring him back. That's what the poor little devil will have to pay for being born in line of succession to a throne. The best I can wish for him is that they won't want him. Take him out of Europe, Jagst; and don't let anyone know where you are taking him. They got his father; and if they ever get me, they'll go after him next."

There was a knock on the door. The king nodded to Jagst.

"Come in!" said the chief of staff.

Captain Count Sarnya entered and saluted. "You sent for me, Sir?" He stood very erect, looking the king straight in the eyes.

"Yes, Sarnya," said the monarch. "I found a note that had been slipped under the corridor door, when I came in just now. How could that have happened without someone seeing it done?"

"I have no idea, Sir."

"There is a sentry on duty in the corridor, isn't there?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Make a thorough investigation, Sarnya; and report to me personally. That is all."

As Sarnya closed the corridor door after him, there came a knock on the door that led to the king's apartments; then it flew open before anyone could say, "Come in," or "Stay out." Prince Michael burst in, flushed and eager; but when he saw that the king was not alone, he stopped, stood up very straight, and saluted his grandfather.

The old man looked at the boy and smiled. "Why all the excitement?" he asked.

"We're late," said Michael. "It is past time for our ride-you know you said we would ride in the park today. I particularly like that ride."

"Why do you like it so much?" asked the king.

"Because in the park I see so many little children playing," explained the boy. "I see them sailing their boats on the pond and flying kites and playing games. I should like to sail a boat on the pond in the park. I should also like very much to fly a kite, but one cannot fly a kite in the palace gardens on account of the trees. Then the palace shuts off the wind, too. However, it is nice to watch them flying theirs in the park. I am all ready to go, Grandpa."

"Come here," said the king. He put his hand on the boy's shoulders. "I am going to disappoint you today, Michael," he said. "I am not going to take you with me."

The eagerness went out of the boy's eyes; and his chin trembled a little, but he said, "Yes, Sir," without a tremor in his voice.

"It is also a disappointment to me," said the king, "but something tells me that I have a very important engagement today."

"Yes, Sir," said the boy; "but we shall go again another day, shan't we?"

Then the old king did that which he had never before done in the presence of others. He drew the boy close to him and kissed him.

"I should hate to think that we never should," he said. "Now run along, my son, and do the best you can in the palace gardens."

As the door closed behind the boy, Jagst turned upon the king. "You don't mean to say that you are going to ride out in the city today, do you?" he demanded fiercely. He even forgot to put in a "Sir" or a "Majesty."

"You wouldn't want them to think that I am afraid of them, would you, Jagst?" demanded the king, a half smile upon his lips.

"I don't give a damn what that scum thinks, Sir," shouted the old general. "I'm only thinking of you, and you should be thinking of your country and your people."

"I am only thinking that I am a king," said the old man, wearily; "and that kings must do what kings are expected to do. My God, Jagst! All my life I have been doing all the things I didn't want to do and none of the things I wanted to do."

"But just today, Sir," pleaded Jagst. "You will not go today?"

"What is the difference, Jagst? If it is not today, it will be tomorrow. Come, walk as far as the carriage with me."

"This," said the little Prince Michael to the gardener's son, "would be a very nice boat if it didn't tip over every time we put it in the water. I think there must be something wrong with it. The boats that the children sail in the park do not tip over like this. Have you ever been to the park and seen them sailing their boats?"

"Oh, yes," replied the gardener's son. "I have sailed boats there myself. The trouble with this boat is that it has no keel. It should have a weighted keel; then it wouldn't tip over so easily."

"You have been to the park and sailed a boat?" said the prince, wistfully. "I was going there today with my grandfather; but he had a very important engagement, and could not take me with him. Perhaps we shall go tomorrow. What was that?"

"It sounded like one of the big guns at the fort," said the gardener's son.

There was rioting in the city that night; and an angry, sullen crowd milled about the great gates before the palace. There were barricades in the streets and machine guns and soldiers and disheveled, loud-mouthed men making speeches.

In the palace a red-eyed boy faced General Count Jagst. "But I do not wish to run away," he said. "My grandfather did not run away."

"It was his wish, Your Majesty," said Jagst. "It was his last command to me."

"Very well, then, Jagst; I am ready."

Servants carried their portmanteaus to a postern door where waited one of the royal motors that the old king had so scorned. As they entered and drove away, a man watching them from a balcony sighed with relief and turned back into the palace. It was Captain Count Sarnya, Officer of the Guard.

Chapter

2

THE FIRST INTIMATION THAT THE BOY HAD OF THE DISASTER WAS the consciousness of being roughly awakened in the dead of the night-by what he knew not. The ship still trembled from the shock of the collision; but the noise of the impact had been lost to him in the depths of his deep, childish slumber.

As he rose upon one elbow in his berth he became aware of a great commotion about the steamer, and presently he heard the hoarse voices of the stewards as they called at the doorways of the staterooms, summoning the passengers on deck.

A moment later old Jagst burst into the room where the boy was already getting into his clothes.

"Quick, Your Majesty!" cried the old man. "Come on deck-there is no time to bother about clothes," and he grasped the boy by the arm to drag him from the stateroom.

"No, Jagst," exclaimed the boy, holding back. "Go yourself naked if you will, but for my part I prefer to be properly clothed," and notwithstanding the pleas and urgings of his companion the youth proceeded to don all his apparel before ever he would step his foot from the room.

When they reached the deck they found the utmost confusion reigning. Two boats filled with women and children already had gotten safely away; but now the steerage passengers, crazed with the panic of fear, had rushed upon the remaining boats where the officers and crew were making futile efforts to drive them back.

Women were alternately praying and screaming. Men ran hither and thither in futile search for boats into which they could place their loved ones. Jagst put a strong arm about the boy and pushed him through the fighting mob surrounding one of the boats.

"A child!" he cried to one of the officers. "Have you room for another child?" The old man knew that it was useless then to plead the cause of royal blood-for that night upon the stricken ship, with death reaching out to claim them all, men were stripped to the bone of their primitive brutality. As in the days of creation a man took only that precedence which his courage and brawn entitled him to.

The crew and the officers at this boat had succeeded in driving back the fear-mad mob, and some semblance of order had been restored there. At Jagst's question the officer took the boy by the shoulder and hustled him through the guard of seamen toward the boat, into which women and children were being hurried.

At the ship's side the boy glanced hurriedly about him. On either hand, held back before the revolvers of the crew, were women and children of the steerage. As he saw them his head went up and his young eyes blazed. He turned savagely upon the officer.

"Do you think," he cried, "that I will enter a boat while there are women still on board the ship?" and with that he turned quickly back into the crowd.

The sailors and some of the men passengers gave a little shout of admiration. A woman was called to take the boy's place in the boat. Someone strapped a life belt about the boy's body. The ship was listing terribly to starboard now. The seas were running frightfully high. The noise of the hurricane was deafening, and the lowering clouds that shut out the moon and the stars kept the whole scene enveloped in darkness.