After thirty long hours of labor, Jane finally pushed out a healthy and strong baby boy. "Seven pounds and seven ounces," announced one nurse. "Nineteen inches," announced another. "Here you are Jane," the nurse passed the baby to her. "I will go get the father. Even the strongest of men cannot handle witnessing child birth," the nurse winked at Jane. "We will leave you alone for a bit and come back to check on you later," the other nurses said heading out. "Waaaah!" The baby began to wail. "Shh shh shh." Jane wrapped his arms in the blanket rocking his side to side. "Come stop your crying, it will be alright. Just take my hand and hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here don't you cry." Creak. Tarzan stood in the doorway. "Kala use to sing that to Tarzan. Not in England language of course." "My mother use to sing it to me too when I was a girl. It was my favorite song." The baby began to fuss again. Tarzan reached out and scooped up his son. He held him so gently, so delicately. "For one so small, you seem so strong. Tarzan's arms will hold you; keep you safe and warm." Jane joined in. "This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here don't you cry." The baby slowly yawned and drifted off to sleep in Tarzan's arms. Tarzan softly smiled looking down at his son."You Jane, me Tarzan, what him called?" "I was thinking Kerchak." Tarzan looked into Jane's eyes with delight. "Kerchak. Perfect."