Authors Note: Thanks to everyone that has followed and reviewed my story. Sorry for the long wait between chapters I started a second job and an online BA so I've been to busy to fully concentrate on this story. I will try to post at least once a week. I'm trying to stay true to both worlds so if it seems like strays to much from P&P I apologize.

Chapter 7

A week after Tarzan had made his decision to venture into the camp during the day he still had not. Though he did come even closer, going so far as to hang upside down from a tree branch behind the parties back. Mimicking the antics of manu, the little monkey, Tarzan would always pull himself back up before they turned around.

He watched the daily routine of the group fascinated in the things they did. Tarzan was surprised at how well the tall one and his woman provided for the others. He watched as the other two men spent the day building another little cabin like the one he used to explore. The red haired woman that cried all the time bothered Tarzan, the others should stop protecting her, the jungle is not a place for the weak. Then there was the one he knew was named Jane. She was the most beautiful creature he has ever beheld.

She kept her hair piled on top of her head but at night it fell in golden waves around her slender body. Her slim, graceful, body was starting to harden from the labors that living in the jungle rote. Even her once red flesh was now a golden brown, which shimmered in the sun, like Sabor, the lion. She would be his perfect mate.

The day was exceptionally warm, and Jessie exceptionally trying even on sweet Janes nerves. So she took one of the many books in the cabin, an empty basket, a canteen of water and headed into the Jungle. She thought she could pick some fruits and nuts to go with whatever Lizzy and Darcy would bring back for dinner.

"Lizzy was right," she giggled to herself. "She has made me a great walker just so I can have some peace."

Eventually she came upon a clearing in the jungle where there was plenty of the strange apple like fruit that grew in abundance in the area. They smelled like pineapple and tasted like apricots, they were especially good cooked with the wild boar they had found in the area. Jane filled her basket full of the fruit before she stopped to read.

The clearing she was in was unlike anything she had seen before, so Jane had no way of knowing the danger she was in. For Jane had wondered into one of the nests of the Mangani, the Great Apes, that Tarzan called family. The Mangani were nomadic but they frequented the same path, in their circuit to find food. Jane set down her basket and settled herself upon the matted grasses, and gave no thought to who created the large nest like bed.

For hours absolute quiet reigned in the little clearing, except as it was broken by the discordant notes of brilliantly feathered parrots, or the screeching and twittering of the thousand jungle birds flitting ceaselessly amongst the vivid orchids and flamboyant blossoms which festooned the myriad, moss-covered branches of the forest kings. Tarzan watched as she read the book from his cabin until she fell asleep.

Tarzan listened to the sounds of the creatures around him as he watched and guarded the sleeping Jane. Soon he became aware of the sounds of his people moving in their direction. Though Tarzan had won his place as their leader, he had not been doing much of it lately. So he waited for the confrontation he was sure to follow when the tribe came upon the beautiful white ape.

The tribe numbering in all some sixty or seventy apes, sensing that something was in their clearing, approached slowly. The young bull apes eager to prove themselves lead the charge among them were Terkoz. He had been a cruel and capricious king, Tarzan had defeated and banished from the tribe, or so he thought. Fearing for the girl, he leaped from his tree, landing between them, and roared a warning in the language of the Mangani.

Jane was awoken by the savage roar, to find herself surrounded by beast with a strange man the only thing between her and them.

When Terkoz saw that it was Tarzan who guarded the girl, he jumped to the conclusion that this was Tarzan's woman, since they were of the same kind-white and hairless-and so he rejoiced at this opportunity for double revenge upon his hated enemy.

But as Terkoz pushed her roughly aside to meet Tarzan's charge, and she saw the great proportions of the ape and the mighty muscles and the fierce fangs, her heart quavered. How could any vanquish such a mighty antagonist?

Like two charging bulls they came together, and like two wolves sought each other's throat. Against the long canines of the ape was pitted the thin blade of the man's knife.

Jane-her lithe, young form flattened against the trunk of a great tree, her hands tight pressed against her rising and falling bosom, and her eyes wide with mingled horror, fascination, fear, and admiration-watched the primordial ape battle with the primeval man for possession of a woman-for her.

When the long knife drank deep a dozen times of Terkoz' heart's blood, and the great carcass rolled lifeless upon the ground, it was a primeval woman who sprang forward with outstretched arms toward the primeval man who had fought for her and won her.

And Tarzan?

He did what no red-blooded man needs lessons in doing. He took his woman in his arms and smothered her upturned, panting lips with kisses.

For a moment Jane lay there with half-closed eyes. For a moment she thought she had found love again. But as suddenly as the veil had been withdrawn it dropped again, and as thoughts of propriety returned, her face turned scarlet. Mortified she thrust the jungle man from her and buried her face in her hands.

He came close to her once more and took hold of her arm. She turned upon him like a tigress, striking his great breast with her tiny hands.

Tarzan could not understand it.

A moment ago and it had been his intention to hasten Jane back to her people, but that little moment was lost now in the dim and distant past of things which were but can never be again, and with it the good intentions had gone to join the impossible.

Since then Tarzan of the Apes had felt a warm, lithe form close pressed to his. Hot, sweet breath against his cheek and mouth had fanned a new flame to life within his breast, and perfect lips had clung to his in burning kisses that had seared a deep brand into his soul-a brand which marked a new Tarzan.

Again he laid his hand upon her arm. Again she repulsed him. And then Tarzan of the Apes did just what his first ancestor would have done.

He took his woman in his arms and carried her into the jungle.