Chap­ter 11 – The Beasts of Tarzan begins with Tarzan solemn­ly com­plet­ing the bur­ial of the Kincaid’s faith­ful cook, an act that under­scores his respect for life, even in the wilder­ness. With no time to dwell on grief, he resumes his pur­suit of the sin­is­ter Russ­ian, Rokoff, con­vinced that Jane has once again fall­en into ene­my hands. The Ugam­bi jun­gle stretch­es end­less­ly before him, cloaked in shad­ows and thick with per­il. Tarzan’s every step is weighed down by dread for Jane and their child, whom he envi­sions suf­fer­ing under Rokoff’s cru­el­ty. The jun­gle, once famil­iar, now feels alien to him as rain­storms rage for days, mask­ing any trail his ene­mies may have left behind. For the first time, a sense of help­less­ness clouds his resolve.

After endur­ing days of storm and fruit­less track­ing, Tarzan changes his course, hop­ing that a new direc­tion might yield bet­ter results. He moves north­east, trust­ing his gut and his expe­ri­ence with the jun­gle. Even­tu­al­ly, a scat­tered trail leads him to a native vil­lage, but the reac­tion he receives is not wel­com­ing. The vil­lagers retreat in pan­ic, shout­ing about a “white demon” and a host of mon­strous beasts. These lies, plant­ed by Rokoff, have made Tarzan a fig­ure of ter­ror. Deter­mined to get answers, he cap­tures a young war­rior who admits that the Russ­ian had recent­ly passed through. This rev­e­la­tion shifts Tarzan’s frus­tra­tion into focused urgency.

The local chief, M’gan­wazam, ini­tial­ly pre­tends to be a friend, feed­ing Tarzan and offer­ing shel­ter. Yet behind his hos­pi­tal­i­ty lies a dan­ger­ous ambi­tion: the promise of a reward from Rokoff in exchange for Tarzan’s death. That night, Tarzan sens­es some­thing is off. As he rests inside his hut, a sub­tle shift in the air alerts him. From the shad­ows, a blade flash­es toward him, but Tarzan rolls away just in time. His escape is nar­row, and the betray­al cuts deep­er than the weapon could.

As dawn breaks, Tarzan con­tem­plates leav­ing before more traps are sprung. Before he can act, a frail voice calls to him from the edge of the vil­lage. Tam­budza, an old woman he had once pro­tect­ed, stands cloaked in secre­cy and fear. She reveals the truth: M’ganwazam aims to betray him, lured by the promise of gold and favor from the Russ­ian. Her eyes shine with urgency as she shares what she knows—Rokoff is still near­by. With­out hes­i­ta­tion, she offers to guide Tarzan, dri­ven by grat­i­tude and qui­et courage. Her loy­al­ty pro­vides a rare light in the deep­en­ing dark­ness of treach­ery.

Unbe­knownst to them, Buu­laoo, the chief’s cun­ning son, lis­tens intent­ly from the shad­ows. His loy­al­ty lies not with his father nor with the stranger, but with his own ambi­tions. The knowl­edge he over­hears may soon be used to strike a dev­as­tat­ing blow. Tarzan, how­ev­er, remains unaware of the new threat brew­ing behind him. Focused on the path ahead, he pre­pares to fol­low Tam­budza into the heart of dan­ger. Her frail form may move slow­ly, but her knowl­edge is the key to uncov­er­ing Rokoff’s hid­den camp.

The jun­gle thick­ens as they trav­el, every sound sug­gest­ing an unseen preda­tor or spy­ing ene­my. Tam­budza moves with care, using ancient paths and old instincts to lead the way. Tarzan watch­es her close­ly, his respect grow­ing for her brav­ery and wis­dom. Mean­while, the ghosts of his fear and fury fol­low him, ignit­ing his deter­mi­na­tion to find Jane and their son. Every step through the under­brush feels like a march against fate itself. The ten­sion is sharp, not only from the envi­ron­ment but from the moral weight of the deci­sions Tarzan must make.

The nar­ra­tive at this stage becomes a cru­cible of emo­tion­al and phys­i­cal sur­vival. Tarzan’s strug­gle is no longer just about pursuit—it’s about know­ing whom to trust, when to act, and how to out­wit ene­mies in both human and ani­mal form. The jun­gle is unfor­giv­ing, but so is Tarzan’s will. With every betray­al he uncov­ers, he becomes sharp­er, hard­er, more focused. This chap­ter deep­ens the sense of iso­la­tion and urgency, yet hints at an approach­ing convergence—where truths will col­lide, and jus­tice, though delayed, will be served.