 Dono and Dukar have escaped from the city of Tor. Jeanette, quartered in the palace among Artea's serving women, agrees to find and give to Wong Tai the key to the Queen's Treasure Cave, providing that he will, through his influence over Artea, prevent the combat between Mungo, chief of the Torian warriors, and Tarzan. Dono and Dukar locate the camp of the Torian jungle patrol, climb the stockade under cover of night, and make their way cautiously through the sleeping camp toward the picket line of riding elephants. In the jewel pits to which Tarzan and O'Rourke have been condemned, Kailuk, a Rathorian slave, reports to Tarzan that the ape man's plan of a mutiny among the slaves has been eagerly accepted by the prisoners who look to Tarzan for leadership. As the ape man and Kailuk discuss the plan, the huge entrance gates to the pits swing open. Seated in a houda, strapped to the back of an enormous elephant, Artea and Jeanette ride into the enclosure followed by Mungo, Wong Tai, and several nobles of the Queen's Retinue. As Artea taunts the ape man and O'Rourke, the elephant upon which she and Jeanette are mounted takes fright and stampede directly toward one of the deep-open pits. Holy Saint Patrick Tarzan, the blutes headed straight for the pit. Mungo can't stop him. If the base falls into that pit, Jeanette will be killed. At the ape man's call, the stampeding, brute lip sits trumpeting loudly. Slaves and guards alike leap from the path of the frightened beast as it swiftly nears the edge of the pit. Swift as an arrow from a bow, Tarzan's beats along beside the great beast. With a mighty bound, he leaps into the air, catches a projection on the gilded houda, and the next instant drops astride the huge neck. His fright evaporating like mist onto the sun at the soothing friendly voice, the great elephant checks its speed. He turns away from the brink of the pit and drops to a slow, shuffling walk. Oh, Tarzan, you're not hurt. You saved my life, Tarzan of the apes. Any demand you make within reason shall be granted. I have done nothing. I demand nothing. But do you not understand? You have saved me, Artea, Queen of Tor, from death. Not to mention, Jeanette. Jeanette Burton is a slave. Her death would mean nothing to the welfare of my subjects. But I am the Queen, whose death would mean much, my Tarzan, to you and your friend. How are they? How are they all right, Tarzan? Jeanette? All right, O'Rourke. No harm done. I'll get down now. Stay where you are, Tarzan of the apes. Mungo, la handa puka, a step for the Hada. Bring them. Jeanette Burton, get down. But stay within call. What do you want, Artea? You, Tarzan of the apes, I want you to accept the kingship of Tor. I thought we had settled that question, Artea. I'm sorry. I wouldn't be satisfied to stay here in Tor, even as king. Instead of offering you my throne and myself, I should or do you all put to death at once. You have spurned me, scorned my love, made a fool of me before my subjects. Be careful, my Tarzan, that you do not drive me too far. Mungo and those others would gladly cast you into the fires of Tor. Why don't you give them the order, then? Listen, Tarzan of the apes. I could have had you killed long ago had I wished it. But when I first saw you, I knew you to be the man I had seen in my dreams. I knew you were fit to be the mate of Artea. I would teach you love, Tarzan. Love... Yes, I know. You told me that before. And if you remember, I told you that friendship must come before love. You've been anything but friendly to me and my friends. That can all be changed at a word from you. You and your companions shall be quartered in the palace until they go away. Then you shall come to me. You need not to remain in this slave pit. It is not for such as you, my Tarzan. I'm satisfied to stay here. Artea, my friends come first. I am here to rescue them and friendship is sacred, which you should know. But love, Tarzan, such as I offer you... Wait. If those people don't go free, I will have failed in my trust. However, I'll neither stay nor leave without them. You threatened me, Tarzan of the Apes? Would you, weather slave? But we've gone over this before. The decision rests with you. Prove your friendship or love or whatever you call it by letting us all go free. When I have seen my friends safely out of the jungle, you have my word that I'll come back. And once out of sight of tour, you would quickly and conveniently forget your promise. No, no, my Tarzan. You say the decision rests with me. Good. To let them go is a little matter, if you stay. Do you agree? For the last time, yes or no? No. Then Mungo shall kill you when you fight with him in the public arena. Your friend shall watch you die. You forget that two of them have already escaped you. They will be found. They and these others shall be fed to the fires of tour. In the jungle stockade of the Torian mounted patrol, Dhanu and Uka move, poisonous as shadows, along the wall toward the barred gateway in the line of picketed elephants. The sounds of the heavy breathing in the deep snores of sleeping men come faintly to their ears from the long, dark, open shelter in the center of the enclosure. High above in the blue vault of the heavens, the myriad stars begin to lose their twinkling brilliance in the diffused, silvery light of the rising moon. In the lead, Uka approaches suddenly close to the ground, motions Donald down beside him. There, in the shadow beside the gate, do you see? What is it? The god. He sits leaning against that post close to the first elephant. Can you not see him? But no, not clearly. The fire has burned so low, and the shadows are so deep. Look closely. It is necessary that you see exactly where he is. Tene, oh, moment. Ah, now I see. Just beyond the first elephant in the picket line, between him and the gate, n'est-ce pas? He is facing the center of the stockade. There is room to pass behind him. That will be too dangerous, unless the fellow is asleep. He will undoubtedly hear any sounds made so close to him. There must be no sound. If there is, he will not hear it. Then we must wait for him to sleep. There is no time for that. The moon is already up. Soon it will shine down into the stockade. We must be away by then. Ah, mongria. I told you it would not be easy to steal an elephant from the midst of the toria and patrol, even though they be asleep. We shall be recaptured, if we feel it. Do exactly as I say, Dono, and it will be simple. We shall not be recaptured. Allure, I am ready. What am I to do? We go forward. Stay close behind me. Keep as close to the ground as you can. When I touch you, remain where you are, until you see that I have quieted the guard. And go to the gate. Open it as quickly as you can, and as with this little noise. Don't, don't do it. And then? Then join me beside the first elephant in the line. Bien, bien, I understand. Come then, follow, and keep down near the ground. Blending with the deep shadow beside the wall of the stockade and the darker ground, Ukah and Dono, like creeping death, work their way noiselessly toward the drowsily nodding torian. Ukah fastens his narrowed alert gaze on the face of the unsuspecting guard. Closer, closer, until only a few yards separate him from the yellow giant. A touch of the ratorian's foot against Dono's shoulder, and the Frenchman sinks to the ground, becomes motionless. Inch by inch, Ukah moves forward. The torian war spear held close up under the blade in his right hand. Directly behind the drowsy guard, he pauses, lifts himself into a crouch. At the whisper of sound, the torian starts, leans suddenly forward. Instantly, Ukah's muscular yellow arm and circles the man's throat to cope back to warning cry. The blade of the heavy spear sinks to the half in the broad yellow back between the shoulders. The gate, Dono, break haste! Dono leaps to his feet. In half a dozen strides, he reaches the gate, thrusts back the heavy bar from its sockets, swings wide the creeping barrier. A moment later, he crouches beside Ukah, who fumbles at the picket chain of a great blue-black elephant. Vite, vite mon ami, that fellow's cry may have been heard. The chain is locked. To Malay, quick, go to the guard. He will have a pouch as it belt. The key. The press that we are caught now, we are locked. Make haste, Dono. Make haste. Vite, vite, you say, make haste. And I am doing just that. Ah, voila, Leclerc, je l'enlée. Here, here is the key. Now, hurry. This is not the key. It does not turn. Sacre, it must be. There was no other. Oh, mon Dieu. Look, that fellow's cry was heard. There, you see, won't you? The men are coming from the shelter, looking this way. I have it unlocked. Here, Dono, on the elephant kneels and lowers his trunk, climb up to his neck. Oroc, nanda, oroc. The low voice's familiar words of command. A huge beast sinks awkwardly to one knee, lowers its trunk to the ground. Swiftly, Dono scrambles to a seat as stride the barrel-like neck to be followed instantly by Yuka. Bada, look there. The entire patrol is aroused, and they are coming. Get close behind me, Dono. Nanda, nanda, nanda, nanda, nanda. Whom, lo, lo, lo, nanda. You know the sheer? This brute moves as though he were on parade. They will have us in one little moment. Oh, hurry, gays and Ouka. Whom, nanda, pomm, pomm, nanda, nanda. Cheyor, Cheyor. There, Ouka. Be quick or we are lost!