 CHAPTER XV After Werper had arranged the dummy in his bed, and sneaked out into the darkness of the village beneath the rear wall of his tent, he had gone directly to the hut in which Jane Clayton was held captive. Before the doorway squatted a black sentry, Werper approached him boldly, spoke a few words in his ear, handed him a package of tobacco, and passed into the hut. The black grinned and winked as the European disappeared within the darkness of the interior. The Belgian, being one of Ochmetzak's principal lieutenants, might naturally go where he wished within or without the village, and so the sentry had not questioned his right to enter the hut with the white woman prisoner. Within Werper called in French and in a low whisper, "'Lady Grey Stoke, it is I, M. Thécur. Where are you?' But there was no response. Hastily the man felled around the interior, groping blindly through the darkness without stretched hands. There was no one within. Werper's astonishment surpassed words. He was on the point of stepping without to question the sentry when his eyes, becoming accustomed to the dark, discovered a blotch of lesser blackness near the base of the rear wall of the hut. Examination revealed the fact that the blotch was an opening cut in the wall. It was large enough to permit the passage of his body, and assured as he was that Lady Grey Stoke had passed out through the aperture in an attempt to escape the village, he lost no time in availing himself of the same avenue, but neither did he lose time in a fruitless search for Jane Clayton. His own life depended upon the chance of his alluding or out-distancing och-met zack when that worthy should have discovered that he had escaped. His original plan had contemplated connivance in the escape of Lady Grey Stoke for two very good and sufficient reasons. The first was that by saving her he would win the gratitude of the English, and thus lessen the chance of his extradition should his identity and his crime against his superior officer be charged against him. The second reason was based upon the fact that only one direction of escape was safely open to him. He could not travel to the West because of the Belgian possessions which lay between him and the Atlantic. The South was closed to him by the feared presence of the Savvy Jake-Man he had robbed. To the North lay the friends and allies of och-met zack. Only toward the East, through British East Africa lay reasonable assurance of freedom. Accompanied by a titled Englishwoman whom he had rescued from a frightful fate and his identity vouched for by her as that of a Frenchman by the name of Fécoul, he had looked forward and not without reason to the active assistance of the British from the moment that he came in contact with their first outpost. But now that Lady Grey Stoke had disappeared, though he still looked toward the East for hope, his chances were lessened, and another subsidiary design completely dashed. From the moment that he had first laid eyes upon Jane Clayton he had nursed within his breast a secret passion for the beautiful American wife of the English Lord, and when och-met zack's discovery of the jewels had necessitated flight the Belgian had dreamed in his planning of a future in which he might convince Lady Grey Stoke that her husband was dead and by playing upon her gratitude win her for himself. At that part of the village farthest from the gates, Werper discovered that two or three long poles taken from a nearby pile which had been collected for the construction of huts had been leaned against the top of the palisade, forming a precarious, though not impossible, avenue of escape. Rightly he inferred that thus had Lady Grey Stoke found the means to scale the wall, nor did he lose even a moment in following her lead. Once in the jungle he struck out directly eastward. A few miles south of him Jane Clayton lay panting among the branches of a tree in which she had taken refuge from a prowling and hungry lioness. Her escape from the village had been much easier than she had anticipated. The knife which she had used to cut her way through the brush wall of the hut to freedom she had found sticking in the wall of her prison, doubtless left there by the accident when a former tenant had vacated the premises. To cross the rear of the village keeping always in the densest shadows had required but a few moments, and the fortunate circumstance of the discovery of the hut poles lying so near the palisade had solved for her the problem of the passage of the high wall. For an hour she had followed the old game trail toward the south, until there fell upon her trained hearing the stealthy padding of a stalking beast behind her. The nearest tree gave her instant sanctuary, for she was too wise in the ways of the jungle to chance her safety for a moment after discovering that she was being hunted. Werper with better success travelled slowly onward until dawn, when to his chagrin he discovered a mounted A-rab upon his trail. It was one of Akmet Zek's minions, many of whom were scattered in all directions through the forest searching for the fugitive Belgian. Jane Clayton's escape had not yet been discovered when Akmet Zek and his searchers set forth the overhaul Werper. The only man who had seen the Belgian after his departure from his tent was the black sentry before the doorway of Lady Grey Stokes' prison hut, and he had been silenced by the discovery of the dead body of the man who had relieved him, the sentry that Mugambi had dispatched. The bribe-taker naturally inferred that Werper had slain his fellow, and dared not admit that he had permitted him to enter the hut, fearing as he did the anger of Akmet Zek, so his chance directed that he should be the one to discover the body of the sentry when the first alarm had been given following Akmet Zek's discovery that Werper had outwitted him, the crafty black had dragged the dead body to the interior of a nearby tent, and himself resumed his station before the doorway of the hut in which he still believed the woman to be. With the discovery of the A-Rab close behind him, the Belgian hid in the foliage of a leafy bush. Here the trail ran straight for a considerable distance, and down the shady forest aisle beneath the overarching branches of the trees rode the white-robed figure of the pursuer. Nearer and nearer he came, Werper crouched closer to the ground behind the leaves of his hiding-place, across the trail a vine moved, Werper's eyes instantly centered upon the spot. There was no wind to stir the foliage in the depths of the jungle. Again the vine moved. In the mind of the Belgian, only the presence of a sinister and malevolent force could account for the phenomenon. The man's eyes bored steadily into the screen of leaves upon the opposite side of the trail. Gradually a form took shape beyond them. A tawny form, grim and terrible, with yellow-green eyes glaring fearsomely across the narrow trail straight into his. Werper could have screamed in fright, but up the trail was coming the messenger of another death, equally sure and no less terrible. He remained silent, almost paralyzed by fear. The A-Rab approached, across the trail from Werper the lion crouched for the spring, when suddenly his attention was attracted toward the horseman. The Belgian saw the massive head turn in the direction of the raider, at his heart all but ceased its beating as he awaited the result of this interruption. At a walk the horseman approached. With the nervous animal he rode, take fright at the odor of the carnivore, and bolting, leave Werper still to the mercies of the King of Bees, but he seemed unmindful of the near presence of the great cat. On he came, his neck arched, champing at the bit between his teeth. The Belgian turned his eyes again toward the lion. The beast's whole attention now seemed riveted upon the horseman. They were abreast the lion now, and still the brute did not spring. Could he be but waiting for them to pass, before returning his attention to the original prey? Werper shuttered and half rose. At the same instant the lion sprang from his place of concealment, full upon the mounted man. The horse with a shrill nae of terror shrank sideways, almost upon the Belgian. The lion dragged the helpless A-Rab from his saddle, and the horse leaped back into the trail and fled away toward the west, but he did not flee alone. As the frightened beast had pressed in upon him, Werper had not been slow to note the quickly emptied saddle and the opportunity yet presented. Scarcely had the lion dragged the A-Rab down from one side, then the Belgians seizing the pommel of the saddle, and the horse's mane leaped upon the horse's back from the other. A half hour later a naked giant swinging easily through the lower branches of the trees, paused and with raised head and dilating nostrils sniffed the morning air. The smell of blood fell strong upon his senses, and mingled with it was the scent of Numa the lion. The giant cocked his head upon one's hide and listened. From a short distance up the trail came the unmistakable noises of the greedy feeding of a lion, the crunching of bones, the gulping of great pieces, the contented growling, all attested the nearness of the king at table. Tarzan approached the spot, still keeping to the branches of the trees. He made no effort to conceal his approach, and presently he had evidence that Numa had heard him from the ominous rumbling warning that broke from a thicket beside the trail, halting upon a low branch just above the lion, Tarzan looked down upon the grisly scene. Could this unrecognizable thing be the man he had been trailing? The eight men wondered. From time to time he had descended to the trail and verified his judgment by the evidence of his scent that the Belgian had followed this game trail toward the east. Now he proceeded beyond the lion and his feast, again descended and examined the ground with his nose. There was no sense for here of the man he had been trailing. Tarzan returned to the tree. With keen eyes he searched the ground about the mutilated corpse for a sign of the missing pouch of pretty pebbles, but not could he see of it. He scolded Numa and tried to drive the great beast away, but only angry growls rewarded his efforts. He tore small branches from a nearby limb and hurled him at his ancient enemy. Numa looked up with bared fangs, grinning hideously, but he did not rise from his kill. Then Tarzan fitted a narrow to his bow, and drawing the slim shaft far back, let drive with all the force of the tough wood that only he could bend. As the arrow sank deeply into his side, Numa leaped to his feet with a roar of mingled rage and pain. He leaped futilely at the grinning ape-man, tore at the protruding end of the shaft, and then, springing into the trail, paced back and forth beneath his tormentor. Again Tarzan loosed a swift bolt. This time the missile aimed with care lodged in the lion's spine. The great creature halted in its tracks, and lured awkwardly forward upon its face, paralyzed. Tarzan dropped to the trail, ran quickly to the beast's side, and drove his spear deep into the fierce heart, then after recovering his arrows turned his attention to the mutilated remains of the animal's prey in the nearby thicket. The face was gone. The A-rab garments aroused no doubt as to the man's identity, since he had trailed him into the A-rab camp and out again, where he might easily have acquired the apparel. So sure was Tarzan that the body was that of he who had robbed him, that he made no effort to verify his deductions by scent among the conglomerate odors of the great conivore and the fresh blood of the victim. He confined his attentions to a careful search for the pouch, but nowhere upon or about the corpse was any sign of the missing article or its contents. The ape-man was disappointed, possibly not so much because of the loss of the colored pebbles as with Numa for robbing him of the pleasures of revenge. Wondering what could have become of his possessions, the ape-man turned slowly back along the trail in the direction from which he had come. In his mind revolved the plan to enter and search the A-rab camp after darkness had again fallen. Taking to the trees he moved directly south in search of prey that he might satisfy his hunger before midday and then lie up for the afternoon in some spot far from the camp, where he might sleep without fear of discovery until it came time to prosecute his design. Scarcely had he quitted the trail when a tall black warrior, moving at a dogged trot, passed toward the east. It was Mugambi searching for his mistress. He continued along the trail, halting to examine the body of the dead lion, an expression of puzzlement crossed his features as he bent to search for the wounds which had caused the death of the jungle lord. Tarzan had removed his arrows, but to Mugambi the proof of death was as strong as though both the lighter missiles and the spear still protruded from the carcass. The black looked furtively about him, the body was still warm and from this fact he reasoned that the killer was close at hand, yet no sign of living man appeared. Mugambi shook his head and continued along the trail but with redoubled caution. All day he traveled, stopping occasionally to call aloud the single word, Lady, in the hope that at last she might hear and respond, but in the end his loyal devotion brought him to disaster. From the northeast for several months Abdul Murak, in command of a detachment of Abyssinian soldiers, had been assiduously searching for the Arab raider, Akhmet Zek, who six months previously had affronted the majesty of Abdul Murak's emperor by conducting a slave raid within the boundaries of Menilech's domain, and now it happened that Abdul Murak had halted for a short rest at noon upon this very day and along the same trail that Werper and Mugambi were following toward the east. It was shortly after the soldiers had dismounted that the Belgian unaware of their presence rode his tired mount almost into their midst before he had discovered them. Instantly he was surrounded and a volley of questions hurled at him as he was pulled from his horse and led toward the presence of the commander. Falling back upon his European nationality, Werper assured Abdul Murak that he was a Frenchman hunting in Africa, and that he had been attacked by strangers, his safari killed or scattered, and himself escaping only by a miracle. From a chance remark of the Abyssinian, Werper discovered the purpose of the expedition, and when he realized that these men were the enemies of Akmet Zek, he took heart and immediately blamed his predicament upon the Arab. Lest, however, he might again fall into the hands of the raider, he discouraged Abdul Murak in the further prosecution of his pursuit, assuring the Abyssinian that Akmet Zek commanded a large and dangerous force, and also that he was marching rapidly toward the south, convinced that it would take a long time to overhaul the raider, and that the chances of engagement made the outcome extremely questionable, Murak, none too unwillingly, abandoned his plan, and gave the necessary orders for his command to pitch camp where they were, preparatory to taking up the return march toward Abyssinia the following morning. It was late in the afternoon that the attention of the camp was attracted toward the west by the sound of a powerful voice calling a single word repeated several times. Lady, lady, lady! True to their instincts of precaution, a number of Abyssinians acting under orders from Abdul Murak advanced stealthily through the jungle toward the author of the call. A half hour later they returned, dragging Mugambi among them. The first person the big black's eyes fell upon as he was hustled into the presence of the Abyssinian officer was M. J. Fécoul, the Frenchman who had been the guest of his master and whom he, last, had seen entering the village of Akmet Zek under circumstances which pointed to his familiarity and friendship for the raiders. Between the disasters that had befallen his master and his master's house and the Frenchman, Mugambi saw a sinister relationship which kept him from recalling to Werper's attention the identity which the latter evidently failed to recognize, pleading that he was but a harmless hunter from a tribe farther south, Mugambi begged to be allowed to go upon his way, but Abdul Murak, admiring the warrior's splendid physique, decided to take him back to Edis Abiba and present him to Menelak. A few moments later Mugambi and Werper were marched away under guard, and the Belgian learned for the first time that he too was a prisoner rather than a guest. In vain he protested against such treatment, until a strapping soldier struck him across the mouth and threatened to shoot him if he did not desist. Mugambi took the matter less to heart, for he had not the slightest doubt but that during the course of the journey he would find ample opportunity to elude the vigilance of his guards and make good his escape. With this idea always uppermost in his mind he courted the good opinion of the obscenians, asked them many questions about their emperor and their country, and evinced a growing desire to reach their destination that he might enjoy all the good things which they assured him the city of Edis Abiba contained. Thus he disarmed their suspicions, and each day found a slight relaxation of their watchfulness over him. By taking advantage of the fact that he and Werper always were kept together, Mugambi sought to learn what the other knew of the whereabouts of Tarzan, or the authorship of the raid upon the bungalow, as well as the fate of Lady Greystoke. But as he was confined to the accidents of conversation for this information, not daring to acquaint Werper with his true identity, and as Werper was equally anxious to conceal from the world his part in the destruction of his host's home and happiness, Mugambi learned nothing, at least in this way. But there came a time when he learned a very surprising thing by accident. The party had tamped early in the afternoon of a sultry day upon the banks of a clear and beautiful stream. The bottom of the river was gravelly. There was no indication of crocodiles, those menaces to promiscuous bathing in the rivers of certain portions of the dark continent, and so the obscenions took advantage of the opportunity to perform long deferred and much needed ablutions. As Werper, who with Mugambi had been given permission to enter the water, removed his clothing, the black noted the care with which he unfastened something which circled his waist and which he took off with his shirt, keeping the latter always around and concealing the object of his suspicious solicitude. It was this very carefulness which attracted the black's attention to the thing, arousing a natural curiosity in the warrior's mind, and so it chanced that when the Belgian, in the nervousness of overcaution, fumbled the hidden article and dropped it, Mugambi saw it as it fell upon the ground, spilling a portion of its contents on the sword. Now Mugambi had been to London with his master. He was not the unsophisticated savage that his apparel proclaimed him. He had mingled with the cosmopolitan hordes of the greatest city in the world. He had visited museums and inspected shop windows, and besides he was a shrewd and intelligent man. The instant that the jewels of opar rolled scintillating before his astonished eyes, he recognized them for what they were. But he recognized something else, too, that interested him far more deeply than the value of the stones. A thousand times he had seen the leather pouch which dangled at his master's side, when Tarzan of the Apes had, in a spirit of play and adventure, elected to return for a few hours to the primitive manners and customs of his boyhood, and surrounded by his naked warriors, Hunt the Lion and the Leopard, the Buffalo and the Elephant after the manner he loved best. Werper saw that Mugambi had seen the pouch and the stones. Hastily he gathered up the precious gems and returned them to their container, while Mugambi, assuming an air of indifference, strolled down to the river for his bath. The following morning Abdul Moraq was enraged and chagrined to discover that this huge black prisoner had escaped during the night, while Werper was terrified for the same reason until his trembling fingers discovered the pouch still in its place beneath his shirt and within it the hard outlines of its contents. 15 Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Chapter 16 Tarzan again leads the mangani. Ockmet Zeck, with two of his followers, had circled far to the south to intercept the flight of his deserting lieutenant, Werper. Others had spread out in various directions, so that a vast circle had been formed by them during the night, and now they were beating in toward the center. Ockmet and the two with him halted for a short rest just before noon, they squatted beneath the trees upon the southern edge of a clearing. The chief of the raiders was in ill humor. To have been outwitted by an unbeliever was bad enough, but to have at the same time lost the jewels upon which he had set his avaricious heart was altogether too much. All a must indeed be angry with his servant. Well, he still had the woman. She would bring a fair price in the north, and there was, too, the buried treasure beside the ruins of the Englishman's house. A slight noise in the jungle upon the opposite side of the clearing brought Ockmet Zeck to immediate and alert attention. He gathered his rifle in readiness for instant use, at the same time motioning his followers to silence and concealment. Crouching behind the bushes the three waited, their eyes fastened upon the far side of the open space. Presently the foliage parted and a woman's face appeared, glancing fearfully from side to side. A moment later evidently satisfied that no immediate danger alerted before her, she stepped out into the clearing in full view of the A-Rab. Ockmet Zeck caught his breath with a muttered exclamation of incredulity and an imprecation. The woman was the prisoner he had thought safely guarded at his camp. Apparently she was alone, but Ockmet Zeck waited that he might make sure of it before seizing her. Slowly Jane Clayton started across the clearing, twice already since she had quitted the village of the raiders had she barely escaped the fangs of Carnivora and once she had almost stumbled into the path of one of the searchers. Though she was almost despairing of ever reaching safety she still was determined to fight on, until death or success terminated her endeavors. As the A-Rabs watched her from the safety of their concealment, and Ockmet Zeck noted with satisfaction that she was walking directly into his clutches another pair of eyes looked down upon the entire scene from the foliage of an adjacent tree, puzzled, troubled eyes they were, for all their gray and savage glint, for their owner was struggling with an intangible suggestion of the familiarity of the face and figure of the woman below him. A sudden crashing of the bushes at the point from which Jane Clayton had emerged into the clearing brought her to a sudden stop, and attracted the attention of the A-Rabs and the watcher in the tree to the same point. The woman wheeled about to see what new danger ministered from behind, and as she did so a great anthropoid ape waddled into view. Behind him came another and another, but Lady Grey Stoke did not wait to learn how many more of the hideous creatures were so close upon her trail. With a smothered scream she rushed toward the opposite jungle, and as she reached the bushes there Ockmet Zeck and his two henchmen rose up and seized her. At the same instant a naked brown giant dropped from the branches of a tree at the right of the clearing. Turning toward the astonished apes he gave voice to a short volley of low gutterls, and without waiting to note the effect of his words upon them wheeled and charged for the A-Rabs. Ockmet Zeck was dragging Jane Clayton toward his tethered horse. His two men were hastily unfastening all three mounts. The woman struggling to escape the A-Rab turned and saw the ape-man running toward her, a glad light of hope illuminated her face. "'John!' she cried, "'Thank God that you have come in time!' Behind Tarzan came the great apes, wondering but obedient to his summons. The A-Rabs saw that they would not have time to mount and make their escape before the beast and the man were upon them. Ockmet Zeck recognized the latter as the redoubtable enemy of such as he, and he saw too, in the circumstance, an opportunity to rid himself forever of the menace of the ape-man's presence. Calling to his men to follow his example, he raised his rifle and leveled it upon the charging giant, his followers acting with no less alacrity than himself, fired almost simultaneously, and with the reports of the rifles Tarzan of the apes and two of his hairy henchmen pitched forward among the jungle grasses. The noise of the rifle shots brought the balance of the apes to a wondering pause, and taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Ockmet Zeck and his fellows leaped to their horses' backs and galloped away with the now hopeless and grief-stricken woman. Back to the village they rode, and once again Lady Greystoke found herself incarcerated in the filthy little hut from which he had thought to have escaped for good, but this time she was not only guarded by an additional sentry, but bound as well. Singly and in twos, the searchers who had ridden out with Ockmet Zeck upon the trail of the Belgian, returned empty-handed. With the report of each, the raiders' rage and chagrin increased, until he was in such transport of ferocious anger that none dared approach him. Threatening and cursing, Ockmet Zeck paced up and down the floor of his silken tent, but his temper served him not. Warper was gone, and with him the fortune in scintillating gems which had aroused the cupidity of his chief and placed the sentence of death upon the head of the lieutenant. With the escape of the A-Rabs the great apes had turned their attention to their fallen comrades. One was dead, but another, and the great white ape, still breathed. The hairy monsters gathered about these two, grumbling and muttering after the fashion of their kind. Tarzan was the first to regain consciousness. Sitting up he looked about him. Blood was flowing from a wound in his shoulder. The shock had thrown him down and dazed him, but he was far from dead. Rising slowly to his feet, he let his eyes wander toward the spot wherelast he had seen the shee who had aroused within his savage breath such strange emotions. Where is she, he asked? The Tar-Mangani took her away, replied one of the apes. Who are you who speak the language of the Mangani? I am Tarzan, replied the ape-man, mighty hunter, greatest of fighters. When I roar the jungle is silent and trembles with terror. I am Tarzan of the apes. I have been away, but now I have come back to my people. Yes, spoke up an old ape. He is Tarzan. I know him. It is well that he has come back. Now we shall have good hunting. The other apes came closer and sniffed at the ape-man. Tarzan stood very still, his fangs half-bared, and his muscles tense and ready for action. But there was none there to question his right to be with them, and presently the inspection satisfactorily concluded the apes again returned their attention to the other survivor. He too was but slightly wounded, a bullet grazing his skull having stunned him so that when he regained consciousness he was apparently as fit as ever. The apes told Tarzan that they had been travelling toward the east when the sense-pore of the shee had attracted them and they had stalked her. Now they wish to continue upon their interrupted march. But Tarzan preferred to follow the A-Rabs and take the woman from them. After a considerable argument it was decided that they should first hunt toward the east for a few days and then return and search for the A-Rabs. And as time as of little moment to the ape-folk Tarzan exceeded to their demands, he himself having reverted to a mental state but little superior to their own. Another circumstance which decided him to postpone pursuit of the A-Rabs was the painfulness of his wound. It would be better to wait until that had healed before he pitted himself again against the guns of the Tarman Gany, and so as Jane Clayton was pushed into her prison hut and her hands and feet securely bound, her natural protector roamed off toward the east in company with a score of hairy monsters with whom he rubbed shoulders as familiarly as a few months before he had mingled with his immaculate fellow-members of one of London's most select and exclusive clubs. But all the time they're lurked in the back of his injured brain, a troublesome conviction that he had no business where he was, that he should be for some unaccountable reason elsewhere and among another sort of creature. Also there was the compelling urge to be upon the scent of the A-Rabs, undertaking the rescue of the woman who had appealed so strongly to his savage sentiments, though the thought word which naturally occurred to him in the contemplation of the venture was capture rather than rescue. To him she was as any other jungle she, and he had set his heart upon her as his mate. For an instant as he had approached closer to her in the clearing where the A-Rabs had seized her, the subtle aroma which had first aroused his desires in the hut that had imprisoned her had fallen upon his nostrils, and told him that he had found the creature for whom he had developed so sudden and inexplicable a passion. The matter of the pouch of jewels also occupied his thoughts to some extent, so that he found a double urge for his return to the camp of the Raiders. He would obtain possession of both his pretty pebbles and the she, then he would return to the great apes with his new mate and his baubles and leading his hairy companions into a far wilderness beyond the can of man live out his life, hunting and battling among the lower orders after the only manner which he now recollected. He spoke to his fellow apes upon the matter in an attempt to persuade them to accompany him, but all except Taglat and Cholk refused. The latter was young and strong, endowed with a greater intelligence than his fellows, and therefore the possessor of better-developed powers of imagination. To him the expedition savored of adventure and so appealed strongly. With Taglat there was another incentive, a secret and sinister incentive, which had Tarzan of the apes had knowledge of it would have sent him at the other's throat in jealous rage. Taglat was no longer young, but he was still a formidable beast, mightily muscled, cruel, and because of his greater experience crafty and cunning. Too he was of giant proportions, the very weight of his huge bulk serving off times to discount in his favour the superior agility of a younger antagonist. He was of a morose and sullen disposition that marked him even among his frowning fellows, where such characteristics are the rule rather than the exception, and though Tarzan did not guess it, he hated the ape man with a ferocity that he was able to hide only because the dominant spirit of the nobler creature had inspired within him a species of dread which was as powerful as it was inexplicable to him. These two then were to be Tarzan's companions upon his return to the village of Akmetzek. As they set off, the balance of the tribe vouchsafed them but a parting stare, and then resumed the serious business of feeding. Tarzan found difficulty in keeping the minds of his fellows set upon the purpose of their adventure, for the mind of an ape lacks the power of long sustained concentration. To set out upon a long journey with a definite destination in view is one thing. To remember that purpose and keep it up or most in one's mind continually is quite another. There are so many things to distract one's attention along the way. Chulk was at first for rushing rapidly ahead as though the village of the raiders lay but an hour's march before them instead of several days. But within a few minutes a fallen tree attracted his attention with its suggestion of rich and succulent forage beneath, and when Tarzan missing him returned in search he found Chulk squatting beside the rotting bowl from beneath which he was assiduously engaged in digging out the grubs and beetles whose kind form a considerable portion of the diet of the apes. Unless Tarzan desired to fight there was nothing to do but wait until Chulk had exhausted the storehouse, and this he did only to discover that Taglat was now missing. After a considerable search he found that worthy gentleman contemplating the sufferings of an injured rodent he had pounced upon. He would sit in a parent indifference, gazing in another direction, while the crippled creature wriggled slowly and painfully away from him, and then just as his victim fell to short of escape he would reach out a giant palm and slam it down upon the fugitive. Again and again he repeated this operation until tiring of the sport he ended the sufferings of his plaything by devouring it. Such were the exasperating causes of delay which retarded Tarzan's return journey toward the village of Akmet Zek. But the eight-man was patient, for in his mind was a plan which necessitated the presence of Chulk and Taglat when he should have arrived at his destination. It was not always an easy thing to maintain in the vacillating minds of the anthropoids a sustained interest in their venture. Chulk was wearing of the continued marching and the infrequency and short duration of the rest. He would gladly have abandoned this search for adventure had not Tarzan continually filled his mind with alluring pictures of the great stores of food which were to be found in the village of Tarmangani. Taglat nursed his secret purpose to better advantage than might have been expected of an ape, yet there were times when he too would have abandoned the adventure had not Tarzan cajoled him on. It was mid-afternoon of a sultry, tropical day when the keen senses of the three warned them of the proximity of the Arab camp. Stealthily they approached, keeping to the dense tangle of growing things which made concealment easy to their uncanny jungle craft. First came the giant ape-man, his smooth brown skin glistening with a sweat of exertion in the close hot confines of the jungle. Behind him crept Chulk and Taglat grotesque and shaggy caricatures of their godlike leader. Silently they made their way to the edge of the clearing which surrounded the palisade and here they clamored into the lower branches of a large tree overlooking the village occupied by the enemy, the better to spy upon his goings and comings. A horseman, white bernused, rode out through the gateway of the village. Tarzan, whispering to Chulk and Taglat to remain where they were, swung monkey-like through the trees in the direction of the trail the Arab was riding, from one jungle giant to the next he sped with the rapidity of a squirrel and the silence of a ghost. The Arab rode slowly onward, unconscious of the danger hovering in the trees behind him. The ape-man made a slight detour and increased his speed until he had reached a point upon the trail in advance of the horseman. Here he halted upon a leafy bow which overhung the narrow jungle trail. On came the victim humming a wild air of the great desert land of the north. Above him poised the savage brute that was today bent upon the destruction of a human life, the same creature who a few months before had occupied his seat in the house of lords at London, a respected and distinguished member of that august body. The Arab passed beneath the overhanging bow. There was a slight rustling of the leaves above. The horse snorted and plunged as a brown-skinned creature dropped upon its rump. A pair of mighty arms encircled the Arab and he was dragged from his saddle to the trail. Ten minutes later the ape-man, carrying the outer garments of an Arab bundled beneath an arm, rejoined his companions. He exhibited his trophies to them, explaining in low gutterals the details of his exploit. Cholk and Taglat fingered the fabric, smelled of them, and placing them to their ears tried to listen to them. Then Tarzan led them back through the jungle to the trail where the three hid themselves and waited. Nor had they longed to wait before two of Akmet Zek's blacks, clothed in habiliments similar to their masters, came down the trail on foot, returning to the camp. One moment they were laughing and talking together. The next they lay stretched in death upon the trail, three mighty engines of destruction bending over them. Tarzan removed their outer garments as he had removed those of his first victim, and again retired with Cholk and Taglat to the greater seclusion of the tree they had first selected. Here the ape-man arranged the garments upon his shaggy fellows and himself until, at a distance, it might have appeared that three white-robed Arab squatted silently among the branches of the forest. Until dark they remained where they were. Four from his point of vantage Tarzan could view the enclosure within the palisade. He marked the position of the hut in which he had first discovered the sense for of the she he sought. He saw the two sentries standing before its doorway and he located the habitation of Akmet Zek, where something told him he would most likely find the missing pouch and pebbles. Cholk and Taglat were at first greatly interested in their wonderful raiment. They fingered the fabric, smelled of it, and regarded each other intently with every mark of satisfaction and pride. Cholk, a humorist in his way, stretched forth along and hairy arm and grasping the hood of Taglat's bernouse, pulled it down over the latter's eyes, extinguishing him snuffer-like as it were. The older ape, pessimistic by nature, recognized no such thing as humor. Creatures laid their paws upon him for but two things, to search for fleas and to attack. The pulling of the tarmin-ganny scented thing about his head and eyes could not be for the performance of the former act, therefore it must be the latter. He was attacked. Cholk had attacked him. With a snarl he was at the other's throat, not even waiting to lift the woolen veil which obscured his vision. Tarzan leaped upon the two and swaying and toppling upon their insecure perch the three great beasts tussled and snapped at one another until the ape-men finally succeeded in separating the enraged anthropoids. An apology is unknown to these savage progenitors of man, and explanation a laborious and usually futile process. Tarzan bridged the dangerous gulf by distracting their attention from their altercation to a consideration of their plans for the immediate future. A custom to frequent arguments in which more hair than blood is wasted, the apes speedily forget such trivial encounters, and presently Cholk and Taglat were again squatting in close proximity to each other and peaceful repose, awaiting the moment when the ape-men should lead them into the village of the Tarman Gany. It was long after darkness had fallen that Tarzan led his companions from their hiding place in the tree to the ground and around the palisade to the far side of the village. Gathering the skirts of his bernouse beneath one arm that his legs might have free action, the ape-men took a short running start and scrambled to the top of the barrier, fearing lest the ape should rend their garments to shreds in a similar attempt he had directed them to wait below for him, and himself securely perched upon the summit of the palisade he unslung his spear and lured one end of it to Cholk. The ape seized it, and while Tarzan held tightly to the upper end the anthropoid climbed quickly up the shaft until with one paw he grasped the top of the wall. To scramble then to Tarzan's side was the work of but an instant. In like manner Taglat was conducted to their sides, and a moment later the three dropped silently within the enclosure. Tarzan led them first to the rear of the hut in which Jane Clayton was confined, where, through the roughly repaired aperture in the wall, he sought with sensitive nostrils for proof that the she he had come for was within. Cholk and Taglat, their hairy faces pressed close to that of the patrician, sniffed with him, each caught the sense-spore of the woman within, and each reacted according to his temperament and his habits of thought. It left Cholk indifferent. The she was for Tarzan. All that he desired was to bury his snout in the foodstuffs of the Tarman Gany. He had come to eat his fill without labor. Tarzan had told him that that should be his reward, and he was satisfied. But Taglat's wicked bloodshot eyes narrowed to the realization of the nearing fulfillment of his carefully nursed plan. It is true that sometimes, during the several days that had elapsed since they had set out upon their expedition, it had been difficult for Taglat to hold his idea uppermost in his mind, and on several occasions he had completely forgotten it, until Tarzan, by a chance word, had recalled it to him, but for an ape Taglat had done well. Now he licked his chops, and he made a sickening, sucking noise with his flabby lips as he drew in his breath. Satisfied that the she was where he had hoped to find her, Tarzan led his apes toward the tent of Akmet Zek. A passing a rab and two slaves saw them, but the night was dark, and the white bernouces hid the hairy limbs of the apes and the giant figure of their leader, so that the three, by squatting down as though in conversation, were passed by, unsuspected. To the rear of the tent they made their way. Within Akmet Zek conversed with several of his lieutenants, without Tarzan listened. Lieutenant Albert Werper, terrified by contemplation of the fate which might await him at Edis Abiba, cast about for some scheme of escape. But after the Black Mugambi had eluded their vigilance, the obscenions redoubled their precautions to prevent Werper following the lead of the Negro. For some time Werper entertained the idea of bribing Abdul Mourak with a portion of the contents of the pouch. But fearing that the man would demand all the gems as the price of liberty, the Belgian influence by Aberus sought another avenue from his dilemma. It was then that there dawned upon him the possibility of the success of a different course which would still leave him in possession of the jewels, while at the same time satisfying the greed of the obscenion with the conviction that he had obtained all that Werper had to offer. And so it was that a day or so after Mugambi had disappeared, Werper asked for an audience with Abdul Mourak. As the Belgian entered the presence of his captor, the scowl upon the features of the latter boated ill for any hope which Werper might entertain. Still he fortified himself by recalling the common weakness of mankind which permits the most inflexible of natures to bend to the consuming desire for wealth. Abdul Mourak eyed him frowningly. What do you want now? he asked. My liberty! replied Werper. The obscenion sneered. And you disturbed me thus to tell me what any furor might know, he said. I can pay for it, said Werper. Abdul Mourak laughed loudly. Pay for it, he cried. What feith? The rags that you have upon your back? Or perhaps you are concealing beneath your coat a thousand pounds of ivory? Get out! You are a fool! Do not bother me again, or I shall have you weeped. But Werper persisted. His liberty and perhaps his life depended upon his success. Listen to me, he pleaded. If I can give you as much gold as ten men may carry, will you promise that I shall be conducted in safety to the nearest English commissioner? As much gold as ten men may carry, repeated Abdul Mourak, you are a crazy! Well, have you so much gold as that? I know where it is hid, said Werper. Promise, and I will lead you to it, if ten loads is enough. Abdul Mourak had ceased to laugh. He was eyeing the Belgian intently. The fellow seemed sane enough, yet ten loads of gold? It was preposterous. The obscenian thought in silence for a moment. Well, and if I promise, he said, how far is this gold? A long week's march to the south, replied Werper. And if we do not find it fair, you say at ease, do you realize what your punishment will be? If it is not there, I will forfeit my life, replied the Belgian. I know it is there, for I saw it buried with my own eyes, and more, there are not only ten loads, but as many as fifty men may carry. It is all yours if you will promise to see me safely delivered into the protection of the English. You will stake your life against the finding of the gold? asked Abdul. Werper assented with a nod. Very well, said the obscenian. I promise, and even if there be but five loads, you shall have your freedom. But until the gold is in my possession, you remain a prisoner. I am satisfied, said Werper. Tomorrow we start. Abdul Moraak nodded, and the Belgian returned to his guards. The following day the obscenian soldiers were surprised to receive an order which turned their faces from the northeast to the south, and so it happened that upon the very night that Tarzan and the two apes entered the village of the raiders, the obscenians camped but a few miles to the east of the same spot. While Werper dreamed of freedom and the unmolested enjoyment of the fortune in his stolen pouch, and Abdul Moraak lay awake in greedy contemplation of the fifty loads of gold which lay but a few days farther to the south of him, Ahmed Zak gave orders to his lieutenants that they should prepare a force of fighting men and carriers to proceed to the ruins of the Englishman Duar on the moral, and bring back the fabulous fortune which his renegade lieutenant had told him was buried there. And as he delivered his instructions to those within, a silent listener crouched without his tent, waiting for the time when he might enter in safety and prosecute his search for the missing pouch and the pretty pebbles that had caught his fancy. At last the swarthy companions of Ahmed Zak quitted his tent, and the leader went with them to smoke a pipe with one of their number, leaving his own silk inhabitation unguarded. Scarcely had they left the interior when a knife blade was thrust through the fabric of the rear wall, some six feet above the ground, and a swift downward stroke opened an entrance to those who waited beyond. Through the opening stepped the eight man, and close behind him came the huge chulk, but Taglat did not follow them. Instead he turned and slung through the darkness toward the hut where the she who had arrested his brutish interest lay securely bound. Before the doorway the sentry sat upon their haunches, conversing in monotones. Within the young woman lay upon a filthy sleeping mat, resigned through utter hopelessness, to whatever fate lay in store for her, until the opportunity arrived, which would permit her to free herself by the only means which now seemed even remotely possible, the hitherto detested act of self-destruction. Creeping silently toward the sentries, a white, bernused figure approached the shadows at one end of the hut. The meager intellect of the creature denied it the advantage it might have taken of its disguise. Where it could have walked boldly to the very sides of the sentries, it chose rather to sneak upon them unseen from the rear. It came to the corner of the hut and peered around. The sentries were but a few paces away, but the ape did not dare expose himself, even for an instant, to those feared and hated thunder-sticks which the Tarmangani knew so well how to use, if there were another and safer method of attack. Taglat wished that there was a tree nearby, from the overhanging branches of which he might spring upon his unsuspecting prey. But though there was no tree, the idea gave birth to a plan. The eaves of the hut were just above the heads of the sentries. From them he could leap upon the Tarmangani unseen. A quick snap of those mighty jaws would dispose of one of them before the other realized that they were attacked, and the second would fall an easy prey to the strength, agility, and ferocity of a second quick charge. Taglat withdrew a few paces to the rear of the hut, gathered himself for the effort, ran quickly forward and leaped high into the air. He struck the roof directly above the rear wall of the hut, and the structure reinforced by the wall beneath held his enormous weight for an instant. Then he moved forward a step. The roof sagged, the thatching parted, and the great anthropoid shot threw into the interior. The sentries, hearing the crashing of the roof poles, leaped to their feet and rushed into the hut. Jane Clayton tried to roll aside as the great form led upon the floor so close to her that one foot pinned her clothing to the ground. The ape, feeling the movement beside him, reached down and gathered the girl in the hollow of one mighty arm. The bernouce covered the hairy body so that Jane Clayton believed that a human arm supported her and from the extremity of hopelessness a great hope sprang into her breast that at last she was in the keeping of a rescuer. The two sentries were now within the hut, but hesitating because of doubt as to the nature of the cause of the disturbance. Their eyes, not yet accustomed to the darkness of the interior, told them nothing, nor did they hear any sound, for the ape stood silently awaiting their attack, seeing that they stood without advancing and realizing that handicapped as he was by the weight of the she, he could put up but a poor battle. Taglatt elected to risk a sudden break for liberty. Lowering his head he charged straight for the two sentries who blocked the doorway. The impact of his mighty shoulders bowled them over upon their backs, and before they could scramble to their feet the ape was gone, darting in the shadows of the huts toward the palisade at the far end of the village. The speed and strength of her rescuer filled Jane Clayton with wonder. Could it be that Tarzan had survived the bullet of the Arab? Who else in all the jungle could bear the weight of a grown woman as lightly as he who held her? She spoke his name, but there was no response. Still she did not give up hope. At the palisade the beast did not even hesitate. A single mighty leap carried it to the top, where it poised but for an instant before dropping to the ground upon the opposite side. Now the girl was almost positive that she was safe in the arms of her husband, and when the ape took to the trees and bore her swiftly into the jungle, as Tarzan had done at other times in the past, belief became conviction. In a little moonlit glade, a mile or so from the camp of the raiders, her rescuer halted and dropped her to the ground. His roughness surprised her, but still she had no doubts. Again she called him by name, and at the same instant the ape, fretting under the restraints of the unaccustomed garments of the tarmin gany, tore the bernouce from him, revealing to the eyes of the horror-struck woman the hideous face and hairy form of a giant anthropoid, with a piteous wail of terror Jane Clayton swooned, while from the concealment of a nearby bush Numa the lion eyed the pair hungrily and licked his chops. Tarzan, entering the tent of Akmet Zek, searched the interior thoroughly. He tore the bed to pieces and scattered the contents of box and bag about the floor. He investigated whatever his eyes discovered, nor did those keen organs overlook a single article within the habitation of the raider chief, but no pouch or pretty pebbles rewarded his thoroughness. Satisfied at last that his belongings were not in the possession of Akmet Zek, unless they were on the person of the chief himself, Tarzan decided to secure the person of the shee before further prosecuting his search for the pouch. Motioning for Chult to follow him, he passed out of the tent by the same way that he had entered it, and walking boldly through the village made directly for the hut where Jane Clayton had been imprisoned. He noted with surprise the absence of Taglat, whom he had expected to find awaiting him outside the tent of Akmet Zek. But accustomed, as he was, to the unreliability of apes, he gave no serious attention to the present defection of his surly companion. So long as Taglat did not cause interference with his plans, Tarzan was indifferent to his absence. As he approached the hut, the ape-man noticed that a crowd had collected about the entrance. He could see that the men who composed it were much excited, and fearing less Cholk's disguise should prove inadequate to the concealment of his true identity in the face of so many observers, he commanded the ape to be take himself to the far end of the village, and there await him. As Cholk waddled off, keeping to the shadows, Tarzan advanced boldly toward the excited group before the doorway of the hut. He mingled with the blacks and the Arabs in an endeavor to learn the cause of the commotion, in his interest forgetting that he alone of the assemblage carried a spear, a bow, and arrows, and thus might become an object of suspicious attention. Shouldering his way through the crowd, he approached the doorway, and had almost reached it when one of the Arabs laid a hand upon his shoulder, crying, Who is this? at the same time snatching back the hood from the ape-man's face. Tarzan of the apes in all his savage life had never been accustomed to pause in argument with an antagonist the primitive instinct of self-preservation acknowledges many arts and wiles. But argument is not one of them, nor did he now waste precious time in an attempt to convince the raiders that he was not a wolf in sheep's clothing. Instead he had his unmasker by the throat, ere the man's words had scarce quitted his lips, and hurling him from side to side brushed away those who would have swarmed upon him. Using the Arab as a weapon, Tarzan forced his way quickly to the doorway, and a moment later was within the hut. A hasty examination revealed the fact that it was empty, and his sense of smell discovered too the sense spore of Taglat the ape. Tarzan uttered a low ominous growl. Those who were pressing forward at the doorway to seize him fell back as the savage notes of the bestial challenge smote upon their ears. They looked at one another in surprise and consternation. A man had entered the hut alone, and yet with their own ears they had heard the voice of a wild beast within. What could it mean? Had a lion or a leopard sought sanctuary in the interior unbeknown to the centuries? Tarzan's quick eyes discovered the opening in the roof, through which Taglat had fallen. He guessed that the ape had either come or gone by way of the break, and while the Arabs hesitated without, he sprang cat-like for the opening, grasped the top of the wall, and clamored out upon the roof, dropping instantly to the ground at the rear of the hut. When the Arabs finally mustered curries to enter the hut after firing several volleys through the walls, they found the interior deserted. At the same time Tarzan at the far end of the village sought for chulk, but the ape was nowhere to be found. Robbed of his she, deserted by his companions, and as much in ignorance as ever as to the whereabout of his pouch and pebbles, it was an angry Tarzan who climbed the palisade and vanished into the darkness of the jungle. For the present he must give up the search for his pouch, since it would be paramount to self-destruction to enter the Arab camp now while all its inhabitants were aroused and upon the alert. In his escape from the village the ape-man had lost the spore of the fleeing Taglat, and now he circled widely through the forest in an endeavor to again pick it up. Chulk had remained at his post until the cries and shots of the Arabs had filled his simple soul with terror. For above all things the ape-folk feared the thundersticks of the tarmangani. Then he had clamored nimbly over the palisade, tearing his bernouse in the effort, and fled into the depths of the jungle, grumbling and scolding as he went. Tarzan roaming the jungle in search of the trail of Taglat and the she traveled swiftly. In a little moonlit glade ahead of him the great ape was bending over the prostrate form of the woman Tarzan sought. The beast was tearing at the bonds that confined her ankles and wrists, pulling and gnawing upon the cords. The course the ape-man was taking would carry him but a short distance to the right of them, and though he could not have seen them the wind was bearing down from them to him, carrying their scent spores strongly toward him. A moment more and Jane Clayton's safety might have been assured, even though Numa the lion was already gathering himself in preparation for a charge, but fate, already all too cruel, now outdid herself. The wind veered suddenly for a few moments. The scent spore that would have led the ape-man to the girl's side was wafted in the opposite direction. Tarzan passed within fifty yards of the tragedy that was being enacted in the glade, and the opportunity was gone beyond recall. End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of Tarzan and the Jewels of Opaar. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Jewels of Opaar, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Chapter 18. The Fight for the Treasure It was morning before Tarzan could bring himself to a realization of the possibility of failure of his quest, and even then he would only admit that success was but delayed. He would eat and sleep, and then set forth again. The jungle was wide, but wide too were the experience and cunning of Tarzan. Taglat might travel far, but Tarzan would find him in the end, though he had to search every tree in the mighty forest. Soliloquizing thus the ape-man followed the spore of Barra the Deer, the unfortunate upon which he had decided to satisfy his hunger. For half an hour the trail led the ape-man toward the east along a well-marked game-path, when suddenly, to the stalker's astonishment, the quarry broke into sight, racing madly back along the narrow way straight toward the hunter. Tarzan, who had been following along the trail, leaped so quickly to the concealing verger at the side that the deer was still unaware of the presence of an enemy in this direction, and while the animal was still some distance away, the ape-man swung into the lower branches of the tree which overhung the trail. There he crouched, a savage beast of prey awaiting the coming of its victim. What had frightened the deer into so frantic a retreat Tarzan did not know, Numa the lion perhaps, or Sheeta the panther, but whatsoever it was mattered little to Tarzan of the apes. He was ready and willing to defend his kill against any other denizen of the jungle. If he were unable to do it by means of physical prowess, he had at his command another and a greater power, his shrewd intelligence. And so on came the running deer straight into the jaws of death. The ape-man turned so that his back was toward the approaching animal. He poised with bent knees upon the gently swaying limb above the trail, timing with keen ears the nearing hoof-beats of frightened bearer. In a moment the victim flashed beneath the limb, and at the same instant the ape-man above sprang out and down upon its back. The weight of the man's body carried the deer to the ground. It stumbled forward once in a futile effort to rise, and then mighty muscles dragged its head far back, gave the neck a vicious wrench, and bearer was dead. Quick had been the killing, and equally quick were the ape-man's subsequent actions, for who might know what manner of killer pursued bearer, or how close at hand he might be. Scarce had the neck of the victim snapped, then the carcass was hanging over one of Tarzan's broad shoulders, and an instant later the ape-man was perched once more among the lower branches of a tree above the trail, his keen gray eyes scanning the pathway down which the deer had fled. Nor was it long before the cause of bearer's fright became evident to Tarzan, for presently came the unmistakable sounds of approaching horsemen. Dragging his kill after him the ape-man ascended to the middle terrace, and settling himself comfortably in the crotch of a tree where he could still view the trail beneath, cut a juicy steak from the deer's loin, and burying his strong white teeth in the hot flesh proceeded to enjoy the fruits of his prowess and his cunning. Nor did he neglect the trail beneath while he satisfied his hunger. His sharp eyes saw the muzzle of the leading horse as it came into view around a bend in the tortuous trail, and one by one they scrutinized the riders as they passed beneath him in single file. Among them came one whom Tarzan recognized, but so schooled was the ape-man in the control of his emotions that no slightest change of expression, much less any hysterical demonstration that might have revealed his presence, betrayed the fact of his inward excitement. Beneath him, as unconscious of his presence as were the obscenians before and behind him, rode Albert Werper, while the ape-man scrutinized the Belgian for some sign of the pouch which he had stolen. As the obscenians rode toward the south, a giant figure hovered ever upon their trail, a huge, almost naked white man who carried the bloody carcass of a deer upon his shoulders, for Tarzan knew that he might not have another opportunity to hunt for some time if he were to follow the Belgian. To endeavor to snatch him from the midst of the armed horseman, not even Tarzan would attempt, other than in the last extremity, for the way of the wild is the way of caution and cunning unless they be aroused to rashness by pain or anger. So the obscenians and the Belgians marched southward, and Tarzan of the apes swung silently after them through the swaying branches of the middle terrace. A two days march brought them to a level plain beyond which lay mountains, a plain which Tarzan remembered, and which aroused within him vague half-memories and strange longings. Out upon the plain the horseman rode, and had a safe distance behind them crept the ape-man, taking advantage of such cover as the ground afforded. Beside a charred pile of timbers the obscenians halted, and Tarzan, sneaking close and concealing himself in nearby shrubbery, watched them in wonderment. He saw them digging up the earth, and he wondered if they had hidden meat there in the past and now had come for it. Then he recalled how he had buried his pretty pebbles and the suggestion that had caused him to do it. They were digging for the things the blacks had buried here. Presently he saw them uncover a dirty yellow object, and he witnessed the joy of warper and the babdual morack as the grimy object was exposed to view. One by one they unearthed many similar pieces, all of the same uniform dirty yellow, until a pile of them lay upon the ground, a pile which abdual morack fondled and petted in an ecstasy of greed. Some things stirred in the ape-man's mind as he looked long upon the golden ingots. Where had he seen such before? What were they? Why did these tarmin-gani covet them so greatly? To whom did they belong? He recalled the black men who had buried them. The things must be theirs. Warper was stealing them as he had stolen Tarzan's pouch of pebbles. The ape-man's eyes blazed in anger. He would like to find the black men and lead them against these thieves. He wondered where their village might be. As all these things ran through the active mind, a party of men moved out of the forest at the edge of the plain and advanced toward the ruins of the burned bungalow. Abdual morack, always watchful, was the first to see them, but already they were halfway across the open. He called to his men to mount and hold themselves in readiness, for in the heart of Africa who may know whether a strange host be friend or foe. Warper, swinging into his saddle, fastened his eyes upon the newcomers. Then, white and trembling, he turned toward Abdual morack. It is Akmet Zek and his raiders, he whispered, they are come for the gold. It must have been at about the same instant that Akmet Zek discovered the pile of yellow ingots and realized the actuality of what he had already feared since first his eyes had lighted upon the party beside the ruins of the Englishman's bungalow. Someone had forestalled him. Another had come for the treasure ahead of him. The Arab was crazed by rage. Recently everything had gone against him. He had lost the jewels, the Belgian, and for the second time he had lost the Englishwoman. Now someone had come to rob him of this treasure which he had thought as safe from disturbance here as though it never had been mined. He cared not whom the thieves might be. They would not give up the gold without a battle. Of that he was certain. And with a wild hoop and command to his followers, Akmet Zek put spurs to his horse and dashed down upon the obscenians, and after him, waving their long guns above their heads, yelling and cursing, came his motley horde of cutthroat followers. The men of Abdul Mourak met them with a volley which emptied a few saddles, and then the raiders were among them, and sword, pistol, and musket each was doing its most hideous and bloody work. Akmet Zek, spying warperer at the first charge, bore down upon the Belgian, and the latter, terrified by contemplation of the fate he deserved, turned his horse's head and dashed madly away in an effort to escape, shouting to a lieutenant to take command and urging him upon pain of death to dispatch the obscenians and bring the gold back to his camp, Akmet Zek set off across the plain in pursuit of the Belgian, his wicked nature unable to forego the pleasures of revenge, even at the risk of sacrificing the treasure. As the pursued and the pursuer raced madly toward the distant forest, the battle behind them raged with bloody savagerness. No quarter was asked, or given by either the ferocious obscenians or the murderous cutthroats of Akmet Zek. From the concealment of the shrubbery Tarzan watched the sanguinary conflict which so effectually surrounded him that he found no loophole through which he might escape to follow warperer and the Arab chief. The obscenians were formed in a circle which included Tarzan's position, and round and into them galloped the yelling raiders, now darting away, now charging in to deliver thrusts and cuts with their curved swords. Numerically the men of Akmet Zek were superior and slowly but surely the soldiers of Menelaik were being exterminated. To Tarzan the result was immaterial. He watched with but a single purpose, to escape the ring of blood-mad fighters and be away after the Belgian and his pouch. When he had first discovered warper upon the trail, where he had slain Barra, he had thought that his eyes must be playing him false, so certain had he been that the thief had been slain and devoured by Numa, but after following the detachment for two days, with his keen eyes always upon the Belgian, he no longer doubted the identity of the man, though he was put to it to explain the identity of the mutilated corpse he had supposed was the man he sought. As he crouched in hiding among the unkempt shrubbery which so short a while since had been the delight and pride of the wife he no longer recalled, an Arab and an obscenian wheeled their mounts close to his position as they slashed at each other with their swords. Step by step the Arab beat back his adversary, until the latter's horse all but trod upon the eight man, and then a vicious cut clove the Black Warrior's skull and the corpse toppled backward almost upon Tarzan. As the obscenian tumbled from his saddle the possibility of escape which was represented by the riderless horse electrified the eight man to instant action. Before the frightened beast could gather himself for flight a naked giant was a stride his back. A strong hand had grasped his bridal reign and the surprised Arab discovered a new foe in the saddle of him whom he had slain. But this enemy wielded no sword, and his spear and bow remained upon his back. The Arab recovered from his first surprise, dashed in with raised sword to annihilate this presumptuous stranger. He aimed a mighty blow at the eight man's head, a blow which swung harmlessly through thin air as Tarzan ducked from its path, and then the Arab felt the other's horse brushing his leg, a great arm shot out, and encircled his waist, and before he could recover himself he was dragged from his saddle, and forming a shield for his antagonist was born at a mad run straight through the encircling ranks of his fellows. Just beyond them he was tossed aside upon the ground, and the last he saw of his strange foreman the latter was galloping off across the plain in the direction of the forest at its farther edge. For another hour the battle raged, nor did it cease until the last of the obscenians laid dead upon the ground, or had galloped off toward the north in flight, but a handful of men escaped, among them Abdul-Morak. The victorious raiders collected about the pile of golden ingots which the obscenians had uncovered, and there awaited the return of their leader. Their exaltation was slightly tempered by the glimpse they had had of the strange apparition of the naked white man, galloping away upon the horse of one of their foemen, and carrying a companion who was now among them expatiating upon this superhuman strength of the ape-man. None of them there but was familiar with the name and fame of Tarzan of the Apes, and the fact that they had recognized the white giant as the ferocious enemy of the wrong doers of the jungle added to their terror, for they had been assured that Tarzan was dead. Naturally superstitious they fully believed that they had seen the disembodied spirit of the dead man, and now they cast fearful glances about them in expectation of the ghost's early return to the scene of the ruin they had inflicted upon him during their recent raid upon his home, and discussed in affrighted whispers the probable nature of the vengeance which the spirit would inflict upon them should he return to find them in possession of his gold. As they conversed their terror grew, while from the concealment of the reeds along the river, below them a small party of naked black warriors watched their every move. From the heights beyond the river these black men had heard the noise of the conflict, and creeping warily down to the stream had forded it and advanced through the reeds, until they were in a position to watch every move of the combatants. For a half hour the raiders awaited Akhmet Zek's return, their fear of the earlier return of the ghost of Tarzan, constantly undermining their loyalty to and fear of their chief. Finally one among them voiced the desires of all, when he announced that he intended riding forth toward the forest in search of Akhmet Zek, instantly every man of them sprang to his mount. The gold will be safe here, cried one. We have killed the absinience, and there are no others to carry it away. Let us ride in search of Akhmet Zek. And a moment later amidst a cloud of dust the raiders were galloping madly across the plain, and out from the concealment of the reeds along the river crept a party of black warriors toward the spot where the golden ingots of opar lay piled on the ground. Werper had still banned the in advance of Akhmet Zek when he reached the forest, but the latter, better mounted, was gaining upon him. Riding with the reckless courage of desperation the Belgian urged his mount to greater speed, even within the narrow confines of the winding game trail that the beast was following. Behind him he could hear the voice of Akhmet Zek crying to him to halt, but Werper only dug the spur deeper into the bleeding sides of his panting mount. Two hundred yards within the forest a broken branch lay across the trail. It was a small thing that a horse might ordinarily take in his natural stride without noticing its presence, but Werper's horse was jaded, his feet were heavy with weariness, and as the branch caught between his front legs he stumbled, was unable to recover himself, and went down sprawling in the trail. Werper, going over his head, rolled a few yards farther on, scrambled to his feet, and ran back. Seizing the range he tugged to drag the beast to his feet, but the animal would not, or could not, rise, and as the Belgian cursed and struck at him Akhmet Zek appeared in view. Instantly the Belgian ceased his efforts with the dying animal at his feet, and seizing his rifle, dropped behind the horse and fired at the oncoming A-Rab. His bullet, going low, struck Akhmet Zek's horse in the breast, bringing him down a hundred yards from where Werper lay preparing to fire a second shot. The A-Rab who had gone down with his mount was standing astride him, and seeing the Belgian's strategic position behind his fallen horse, lost no time in taking up a similar one behind his own, and there the two lay, alternately firing at and cursing each other, while from behind the A-Rab, Tarzan of the apes approached to the edge of the forest. Here he heard the occasional shots of the duelist, and choosing the safer and swifter avenue of the forest branches to the uncertain transportation afforded by a half-broken obscenian pony took to the trees. Keeping to one side of the trail, the ape man came presently to a point where he could look down in comparative safety upon the fighters. First one and then the other would partially raise himself above his breastwork of horse-flash, fire his weapon, and immediately drop flat behind his shelter, where he would reload and repeat the act a moment later. Werper had but little ammunition, having been hastily armed by Abdul-Morak from the body of one of the first of the obscenians who had fallen in the fight about the pile of ingots, and now he realized that soon he would have used his last bullet and be at the mercy of the A-Rab, a mercy with which he was well acquainted. Facing both death and dispoilment of his treasure, the Belgian cast about for some plan of escape, and the only one that appealed to him, as containing even a remote possibility of success, hinged upon the chance of bribing Akmet Zek. Werper had fired all but a single cartridge when during a lull in the fighting he called aloud to his opponent. Akmet Zek, he cried, all alone knows which one of us may leave our bones to rot where he lies upon this trail today if we keep up our foolish battle. You wish the contents of the pouch I wear about my waist, and I wish my life and my liberty even more than I do the jewels. Let us each then take that which he most desires and go our separate ways in peace. I will lay the pouch upon the carcass of my horse, where you may see it, and you in turn will lay your gun upon your horse with butt toward me. Then I will go away, leaving the pouch to you, and you will let me go in safety. I want only my life and my freedom." The A-Rab thought in silence for a moment. Then he spoke. His reply was influenced by the fact that he had expended his last shot. Go your way, then, he growled, leaving the pouch in plain sight behind you. See, I lay my gun thus, with the butt toward you. Go! Werper removed the pouch from about his waist. Sorrelfully and affectionately he let his fingers press the hard outlines of the contents. Ah, if he could extract a little handful of the precious stones. But Akmet Zek was standing now, his eagle eyes commanding a plain view of the Belgian and his every act. Regretfully Werper laid the pouch, its contents undisturbed upon the body of his horse, rose and taking his rifle with him back slowly down the trail, until a turn hid him from the view of the watchful A-Rab. Even then Akmet Zek did not advance, fearful as he was of some such treachery as he himself might have been guilty of under like circumstances. Nor were his suspicions groundless, for the Belgian no sooner had he passed out of the range of the A-Rab's vision, halted behind the bowl of a tree where he still commanded an unobstructed view of his dead horse and the pouch, and raising his rifle covered the spot where the other's body must appear when he came forward to seize the treasure. But Akmet Zek was no fool to expose himself to the blackened honour of a thief and a murderer. Taking his long gun with him he left the trail, entering the rank and tangled vegetation which walled it, and crawling slowly forward on hands and knees he paralleled the trail, but never for an instant was his body exposed to the rifle of the hidden assassin. Thus Akmet Zek advanced until he had come opposite the dead horse of his enemy. The pouch lay there in full view, while a short distance along the trail whirper waited in growing impatience and nervousness, wondering why the A-Rab did not come to claim his reward. Presently he saw the muzzle of a rifle appear suddenly and mysteriously a few inches above the pouch, and before he could realize the cunning trick that the A-Rab had played upon him the sight of the weapon was adroitly hooked into the rawhide thong which formed the carrying strap of the pouch, and the latter was drawn quickly from his view into the dense foliage at the trail's side. Not for an instant had the raider exposed a square inch of his body, and whirper dared not fire his one remaining shot unless every chance of a successful hit was in his favor. Chuckling to himself, Akmet Zek withdrew a few paces farther into the jungle, for he was as positive that whirper was waiting nearby for a chance to pot him as though his eyes had penetrated the jungle trees to the figure of the hiding Belgian, fingering his rifle behind the bowl of the buttress giant. Whirper did not dare advance, his cupidity would not permit him to depart, and so he stood there, his rifle ready in his hands, his eyes watching the trail before him with cat-like intensity. But there was another who had seen the pouch and recognized it, who did advance with Akmet Zek, hovering above him as silent and as sure as death itself, and as the A-Rab finding a little spot less overgrown with bushes than he had yet encountered, prepared to gloat his eyes upon the contents of the pouch, tarzan paused directly above him, intent upon the same object. Wetting his thin lip with his tongue, Akmet Zek loosened the tie-strings which closed the mouth of the pouch, and cupping one claw-like hand poured forth a portion of the contents into his palm. A single look he took at the stones lying in his hand, his eyes narrowed, a curse broke from his lips, and he hurled the small objects upon the ground disdainfully. Quickly he emptied the balance of the contents, until he had scanned each separate stone, and as he dumped them all upon the ground and stamped upon them, his rage grew until the muscles of his face worked in demon-like fury and his fingers clenched until his nails bit into the flesh. Above, Tarzan watched in wonderment. He had been curious to discover what all the pow-wow about his pouch had meant. He wanted to see what the A-Rab would do after the other had gone away, leaving the pouch behind him, and having satisfied his curiosity he would then have pounced upon Akmet Zek and taken the pouch and his pretty pebbles away from him, for did they not belong to Tarzan? He saw the A-Rab now throw aside the empty pouch, and grasping his long gun by the barrel, club-like, sneak stealthily through the jungle beside the trail along which warper had gone. As the man disappeared from his view, Tarzan dropped to the ground and commenced gathering up the spilled contents of the pouch, and the moment that he obtained his first near view of the scattered pebbles he understood the rage of the A-Rab, for instead of the glittering and scintillating gems which had first caught and held the attention of the ape-man, the pouch now contained but a collection of ordinary river-pebbles. Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar by Edgar Rice Burroughs Chapter 19 Jane Clayton and the Beast of the Jungle Mugambi, after his successful break for liberty, had fallen upon hard times. His way had led him through a country with which he was unfamiliar, a jungle country in which he could find no water and but little food, so that after several days of wandering he found himself so reduced in strength that he could barely drag himself along. It was with growing difficulty that he found the strength necessary to construct a shelter by night wherein he might be reasonably safe from the large carnivora, and by day he still further exhausted his strength in digging for edible roots and searching for water. A few stagnant pools at considerable distances apart saved him from death by thirst, but his was a pitiable state when finally he stumbled by accident upon a large river in a country where fruit was abundant and small game which he might bag by means of a combination of stealth, cunning, and a crude knob-stick which he had fashioned from a fallen limb. Realizing that he still had a long march ahead of him before he could reach even the outskirts of the Wazeri country, Mugambi wisely decided to remain where he was until he had recuperated his strength and help. A few days rest would accomplish wonders for him, he knew, and he could ill afford to sacrifice his chances for a safe return by setting forth handicapped by weakness. And so it was that he constructed a substantial thorn-boma and rigged a thatched shelter within it where he might sleep by night in security and from which he sallied forth by day to hunt the flesh which alone could return to his giant thews their normal prowess. One day as he hunted a pair of savage eyes discovered him from the concealment of the branches of a great tree beneath which the Black Warrior passed. Bloodshot, wicked eyes they were, set in a fierce and hairy face. They watched Mugambi make his little kill of a small rodent, and they followed him as he returned to his hut, their owner moving quietly through the trees upon the trail of the Negro. The creature was chulk, and he looked down upon the unconscious man more in curiosity than in hate. The wearing of the Arab Bernous, which Tarzan had placed upon his person, had aroused in the mind of the anthropoid a desire for similar mimicry of the Tar-Mangani. The Bernous, though, had obstructed his movements and proven such a nuisance that the ape had long since torn it from him and thrown it away. Now, however, he saw a Go-Mangani arrayed in less cumbersome apparel, a loincloth, a few copper ornaments, and a feather head-dress. These were more in line with chulk's desires than a flowing robe which was constantly getting between one's legs and catching upon every limb and bush along the leafy trail. Chulk eyed the pouch which suspended over Mugambi's shoulder, swung beside his black hip. This took his fancy, for it was ornamented with feathers and a fringe, and so the ape hung about Mugambi's Boma, waiting an opportunity to seize either by stealth or might some object of the black's apparel. Nor was it long before the opportunity came. Feeling safe within his thorny enclosure, Mugambi was wont to stretch himself in the shade of his shelter during the heat of the day, and sleep in peaceful security until the declining sun carried with it the innervating temperature of midday. Watching from above, Chulk saw the black warrior stretched thus in the unconsciousness of sleep one sultry afternoon. Creeping out upon an overhanging branch, the anthropoid dropped to the ground within the Boma. He approached the sleeper upon padded feet which gave forth no sound, and with an uncanny woodcraft that wrestled not a leaf or a grass-blade. Pausing beside the man, the ape bent over and examined his belongings. Great as was the strength of Chulk, there lay in the back of his little brain a something which deterred him from arousing the man to combat, a sense that is inherent in all the lore orders, a strange fear of man that rules even the most powerful of the jungle creatures at times. To remove Mugambi's loincloth without awakening him would be impossible, and the only detachable things were the knob-stick and the pouch which had fallen from the black's shoulder as he rolled in sleep. Seizing these two articles as better than nothing at all, Chulk retreated with haste, and every indication of nervous terror to the safety of the tree from which he had dropped, and still haunted by that indefinable terror which the close proximity of man awakened in his breast fled precipitately through the jungle. Aroused by attack or supported by the presence of another of his kind, Chulk could have braved the presence of a score of human beings, but alone, ah, that was a different matter, alone and unenraged. It was some time after Mugambi awoke that he missed the pouch. Instantly he was all excitement. What could have become of it? It had been at his side when he lay down to sleep. Of that he was certain, for had he not pushed it from beneath him when its bulging bolt pressing against his ribs caused him discomfort? Yes, it had been there when he lay down to sleep. How then had it vanished? Mugambi's savage imagination was filled with visions of the spirits of departed friends and enemies, for only to the machinations of such as these could he attribute the disappearance of his pouch and nob stick in the first excitement of the discovery of their loss. But later, a more careful investigation, such as his woodcraft made possible, revealed indisputable evidence of a more material explanation than his excited fancy and superstition had at first led him to accept. In the trampled turf beside him was the faint impress of huge man-like feet. Mugambi raised his brows as the truth dawned upon him. Hastily, leaving the Boma, he searched in all directions about the enclosure for some farther sign of the telltale spore. He climbed trees and sought for evidence of the direction of the thief's flight. But the faint signs left by a wary ape who he likes to travel through the trees alluded the woodcraft of Mugambi. Tarzan might have followed them, but no ordinary mortal could perceive them or, perceiving, translate. The black, now strengthened and refreshed by his rest, felt ready to set out again for Waziri, and finding himself another nob stick turned his back upon the river and plunged into the mazes of the jungle. As Taglat struggled with the bonds which secured the ankles and wrists of his captive, the great lion that eyed the two from behind a nearby clump of bushes, wormed closer to his intended prey. The ape's back was toward the lion. He did not see the broad head, fringed by its rough mane, protruding through the leafy wall. He could not know that the powerful hind paws were gathering close beneath the tawny belly preparatory to a sudden spring, and his first intimation of impending danger was the thunderous and triumphant roar which the charging lion could no longer suppress. Scarce pausing for a backward glance, Taglat abandoned the unconscious woman and fled in the opposite direction from the horrid sound which had broken in so unexpected and terrifying a manner upon his startled ears, but the warning had come too late to save him, and the lion, in his second bound, alighted full upon the broad shoulders of the anthropoid. As the great bull went down there was awakened in him to the full all the cunning, all the ferocity, all the physical prowess which obey the mightiest of the fundamental laws of nature, the law of self preservation, and turning upon his back he closed with the carnivore in a death struggle so fearless and abandoned that for a moment the great Numa himself may have trembled for the outcome. Seizing the lion by the mane, Taglat buried his yellowed fangs deep in the monster's throat, growling hideously through the muffled gag of blood and hair. Mixed with the ape's voice the lion's roars of rage and pain reverberated through the jungle till the lesser creatures of the wild startled from their peaceful pursuits scurried fearfully away, rolling over and over upon the turf the two battled with demonic fury until the colossal cat, by doubling his hind paws far up beneath his belly, sank his talons deep into Taglat's chest, then ripping downward with all his strength Numa accomplished his design and the disemboweled anthropoid with a last spasmodic struggle relaxed in limp and bloody dissolution beneath his titanic adversary. Scrambling to his feet Numa looked about quickly in all directions as though seeking to detect the possible presence of other foes, but only the still and unconscious form of the girl lying a few paces from him at his gaze and with an angry growl he placed a forepaw upon the body of his kill and raising his head gave voice to his savage victory cry. For another moment he stood with fierce eyes roving to and fro about the clearing. At last they halted for a second time upon the girl. A low growl rumbled from the lion's throat his lower jaw rose and fell and the slaver drooled and dripped upon the dead face of Taglat. Like two yellow green augers wide and unblinking the terrible eyes remained fixed upon Jane Clayton. The erect and majestic pose of the great frame shrank suddenly into a sinister crouch as slowly and gently as one who treads on eggs the devil-faced cat crept forward toward the girl. Beneficient fate maintained her in happy unconsciousness of the dread presence sneaking stealthily upon her. She did not know when the lion paused at her side. She did not hear the sniffing of his nostrils as he smelled about her. She did not feel the heat of the fetid breath upon her face nor the dripping of the saliva from the frightful jaws half opened so close above her. Finally the lion lifted a forepaw and turned the body of the girl half over. Then he stood again eyeing her as though still undetermined whether life was extinct or not. Some noise or odor from the nearby jungle attracted his attention for a moment. His eyes did not again return to Jane Clayton, and presently he left her, walked over to the remains of Taglat, and crouching down upon his kill with his back toward the girl proceeded to devour the ape. It was upon this scene that Jane Clayton at last opened her eyes. Inured to danger she maintained herself possession in the face of the startling surprise which her newfound consciousness revealed to her. She neither cried out nor moved a muscle until she had taken in every detail of the scene which lay within the range of her vision. She saw that the lion had killed the ape and that he was devouring his prey less than fifty feet from where she lay. But what could she do? Her hands and feet were bound. She must wait then in what patience she could command until Numa had eaten and digested the ape, when without doubt he would return to feast upon her. Unless, in the meantime, the Dread Hyenas should discover her, or some other of the numerous prowling carnivora of the jungle, as she lay tormented by these frightful thoughts she suddenly became conscious that the bonds at her wrists and ankles no longer hurt her, and then of the fact that her hands were separated, one lying upon either side of her, instead of both being confined at her back. Wonderingly she moved a hand. What miracle had been performed? It was not bound. Stealthily and noiselessly she moved her other limbs only to discover that she was free. She could not know how the thing had happened, that Taglad, gnawing upon them for sinister purposes of his own, had cut them through but an instant before Numa had frightened him from his victim. For a moment Jane Clayton was overwhelmed with joy and thanksgiving, but only for a moment. What good was her new found liberty in the face of the frightful beast crouching so close beside her, if she could have had this chance under different conditions how happily she would have taken advantage of it. But now it was given to her when escape was practically impossible. The nearest tree was a hundred feet away, the lion less than fifty. To rise and attempt to reach the safety of those tantalizing branches would be but to invite instant destruction, for Numa would doubtless be too jealous of this future meal to permit it to escape with ease, and yet too there was another possibility, a chance which hinged entirely upon the unknown temper of the great beast. His belly already partially filled he might watch with indifference the departure of the girl. Yet could she afford to chance so improbable a contingency? She doubted it. Upon the other hand she was no more minded to allow this frail opportunity for life to entirely elude her without taking or attempting to take some advantage from it. She watched the lion narrowly. He could not see her without turning his head more than half way around. She would attempt a ruse. Silently she rolled over in the direction of the nearest tree and away from the lion, until she lay again in the same position in which Numa had left her, but a few feet farther from him. Here she lay breathless watching the lion, but the beast gave no indication that he had heard ought to arouse his suspicions. Again she rolled over gaining a few more feet, and again she lay in rigid contemplation of the beast's back. During what seemed hours to her tense nerves Jane Clayton continued these tactics and still the lion fed on in apparent unconsciousness that his second prey was escaping him. Already the girl was but a few paces from the tree. A moment more and she would be close enough to chance springing to her feet, throwing caution aside and making a sudden bold dash for safety. She was half way over in her turn, her face away from the lion, when he suddenly turned his great head and fastened his eyes upon her. He saw her roll over upon her side away from him, and then her eyes were turned again toward him, and the cold sweat broke from the girl's every pore as she realized that with life almost within her grasp death had found her out. For a long time neither the girl nor the lion moved. The beast lay motionless, his head turned upon his shoulders, and his glaring eyes fixed upon the rigid victim now nearly fifty yards away. The girl stared back straight into those cruel orbs, daring not to move, even a muscle. The strain upon her nerves was becoming so unbearable that she could scarcely restrain a growing desire to scream when Numa deliberately turned back to the business of feeding, but his back-lady ears attested a sinister regard for the actions of the girl behind him. Realizing that she could not again turn without attracting his immediate and perhaps fatal attention, Jane Clayton resolved to risk all in one last attempt to reach the tree and clamor to the lower branches. Gathering herself stealthily for the effort, she leaped suddenly to her feet, but almost simultaneously the lion sprang up, wheeled in with wide distended jaws, and terrific roars charged swiftly down upon her. Those who have spent lifetimes hunting the big game of Africa will tell you that scarcely any other creature in the world attains the speed of a charging lion. For the short distance that the great cat can maintain it, it resembles nothing more closely than the onrushing of a giant locomotive under full speed, and so, though the distance that Jane Clayton must cover was relatively small, the terrific speed of the lion rendered her hopes of escape almost negligible. Yet fear can work wonders, and though the upward springing of the lion as he neared the tree into which she was scrambling brought his talons in contact with her boots, she eluded his raking grasp, and as he hurtled against the bowl of her sanctuary, the girl drew herself into the safety of the branches above his reach. For some time the lion paced, growling and moaning beneath the tree in which Jane Clayton crouched, panting and trembling. The girl was a prey to the nervous reaction from the frightful ordeal through which she had so recently passed, and in her overwrought state it seemed that never again should she dare descend to the ground among the fearsome dangers which infested the broad stretch of jungle that she knew must lie between herself and the nearest village of her faithful wasiri. It was almost dark before the lion finally quit the clearing, and even had his place beside the remnants of the mangled ape not been immediately usurped by a pack of hyenas Jane Clayton would scarcely have dared venture from her refuge in the face of impending night, and so she composed herself as best she could for the long and tiresome wait until daylight might offer some means of escape from the dread vicinity in which she had witnessed such terrifying adventures. Tired nature at last overcame even her fears, and she dropped into a deep slumber, cradled in a comparatively safe, though rather uncomfortable, position against the bowl of the tree, and supported by two large branches which grew outward, almost horizontally, but a few inches apart. The sun was high in the heavens when she at last awoke, and beneath her was no sign either of Numa or the hyenas. Only the clean-picked bones of the ape scattered about the ground attested the fact of what had transpired in this seemingly peaceful spot but a few hours before. Both hunger and thirst assailed her now, and realizing that she must descend or die of starvation, she at last some encouraged to undertake the ordeal of continuing her journey through the jungle. Descending from the tree, she set out in a southerly direction toward the point where she believed the plains of Wazirile, and though she knew that only ruin and desolation marked the spot where once her happy home had stood, she hoped that by coming to the broad plains she might eventually reach one of the numerous Waziri villages that were scattered over the surrounding country, or chants upon a roving band of these indefatigable huntsmen. The day was half spent when there broke unexpectedly upon her startled ears the sound of a rifle-shot not far ahead of her. As she paused to listen this first shot was followed by another, and another, and another. What could it mean? The first explanation which sprung to her mind attributed the firing to an encounter between the Arab raiders and a party of Waziri, but as she did not know upon which side victory might rest, or whether she were behind friend or foe, she dared not advance nearer on the chance of revealing herself to an enemy, after listening for several minutes she became convinced that no more than two or three rifles were engaged in the fight since nothing approximating the sound of a bolly reached her ears, but still she hesitated to approach, and at last, determining to take no chance, she climbed into the concealing foliage of a tree beside the trail she had been following and there fearfully awaited whatever might reveal itself. As the firing became less rapid she caught the sound of men's voices, though she could distinguish no words, and at last the reports of the guns ceased and she heard two men calling to each other in loud tones. Then there was a long silence which was finally broken by the stealthy padding of footfalls on the trail ahead of her, and in another moment a man appeared in view backing toward her, a rifle ready in his hands and his eyes directed in careful watchfulness along the way that he had come. Almost instantly Jane Clayton recognized the man as M. Gilles Fécur, who so recently had been a guest in her home. She was upon the point of calling to him in glad relief when she saw him leap quickly to one side and hide himself in the thick verger at the trail's side. It was evident that he was being followed by an enemy, and so Jane Clayton kept silent lest she distract Fécur's attention or guide his foe to his hiding place. Scarcely had Fécur hidden himself, then the figure of a white-robed Arab crept silently along the trail in pursuit. From her hiding place Jane Clayton could see both men plainly. She recognized Ahmet Zek as the leader of the band of Ruffians who had raided her home and made her a prisoner, and as she saw Fécur, the supposed friend and ally, raise his gun and take careful aim at the Arab, her heart stood still, and every power of her soul was directed upon a fervent prayer for the accuracy of his aim. Ahmet Zek paused in the middle of the trail. His keen eyes scanned every bush and tree within the radius of his vision. His tall figure presented a perfect target to the perfidious assassin. There was a sharp report and a little puff of smoke arose from the bush that hid the Belgian, as Ahmet Zek stumbled forward and pitched, faced down upon the trail. As Werper stepped back into the trail, he was startled by the sound of a glad cry from above him, and as he wheeled about to discover the author of this unexpected interruption, he saw Jane Clayton drop lightly from a nearby tree and rush forward with outstretched hands to congratulate him upon his victory.