After Clayton had plunged into the jungle, the sailors--mutineers of the Arrow--fell into a discussion of theirnext step; but on one point all were agreed--that they shouldhasten to put off to the anchored Arrow, where they could atleast be safe from the spears of their unseen foe. And so,while Jane Porter and Esmeralda were barricading themselveswithin the cabin, the cowardly crew of cutthroats were pullingrapidly for their ship in the two boats that had brought them ashore.

So much had Tarzan seen that day that his head was in awhirl of wonder. But the most wonderful sight of all, to him,was the face of the beautiful white girl.

Here at last was one of his own kind; of that he was positive.And the young man and the two old men; they, too,were much as he had pictured his own people to be.

But doubtless they were as ferocious and cruel as othermen he had seen. The fact that they alone of all the partywere unarmed might account for the fact that they had killedno one. They might be very different if provided with weapons.

Tarzan had seen the young man pick up the fallen revolverof the wounded Snipes and hide it away in his breast; and hehad also seen him slip it cautiously to the girl as she enteredthe cabin door.

He did not understand anything of the motives behind allthat he had seen; but, somehow, intuitively he liked theyoung man and the two old men, and for the girl he had astrange longing which he scarcely understood. As for the bigblack woman, she was evidently connected in some way tothe girl, and so he liked her, also.

For the sailors, and especially Snipes, he had developed agreat hatred. He knew by their threatening gestures and bythe expression upon their evil faces that they were enemiesof the others of the party, and so he decided to watch closely.

Tarzan wondered why the men had gone into the jungle,nor did it ever occur to him that one could become lost inthat maze of undergrowth which to him was as simple as is themain street of your own home town to you.

When he saw the sailors row away toward the ship, andknew that the girl and her companion were safe in his cabin,Tarzan decided to follow the young man into the jungle andlearn what his errand might be. He swung off rapidly in thedirection taken by Clayton, and in a short time heard faintlyin the distance the now only occasional calls of the Englishmanto his friends.

Presently Tarzan came up with the white man, who, almostfagged, was leaning against a tree wiping the perspirationfrom his forehead. The ape-man, hiding safe behind ascreen of foliage, sat watching this new specimen of his ownrace intently.

At intervals Clayton called aloud and finally it came toTarzan that he was searching for the old man.

Tarzan was on the point of going off to look for them himself,when he caught the yellow glint of a sleek hide movingcautiously through the jungle toward Clayton.

It was Sheeta, the leopard. Now, Tarzan heard the softbending of grasses and wondered why the young white manwas not warned. Could it be he had failed to note the loudwarning? Never before had Tarzan known Sheeta to be so clumsy.

No, the white man did not hear. Sheeta was crouching forthe spring, and then, shrill and horrible, there rose from thestillness of the jungle the awful cry of the challenging ape,and Sheeta turned, crashing into the underbrush.

Clayton came to his feet with a start. His blood ran cold.Never in all his life had so fearful a sound smote upon hisears. He was no coward; but if ever man felt the icy fingersof fear upon his heart, William Cecil Clayton, eldest son ofLord Greystoke of England, did that day in the fastness ofthe African jungle.

The noise of some great body crashing through the underbrushso close beside him, and the sound of that bloodcurdlingshriek from above, tested Clayton's courage to the limit;but he could not know that it was to that very voice he owedhis life, nor that the creature who hurled it forth was his owncousin--the real Lord Greystoke.

The afternoon was drawing to a close, and Clayton,disheartened and discouraged, was in a terrible quandary as tothe proper course to pursue; whether to keep on in search ofProfessor Porter, at the almost certain risk of his own deathin the jungle by night, or to return to the cabin where hemight at least serve to protect Jane from the perils whichconfronted her on all sides.

He did not wish to return to camp without her father; stillmore, he shrank from the thought of leaving her alone andunprotected in the hands of the mutineers of the Arrow,or to the hundred unknown dangers of the jungle.

Possibly, too, he thought, the professor and Philandermight have returned to camp. Yes, that was more than likely.At least he would return and see, before he continued whatseemed to be a most fruitless quest. And so he started,stumbling back through the thick and matted underbrush in thedirection that he thought the cabin lay.

To Tarzan's surprise the young man was heading furtherinto the jungle in the general direction of Mbonga's village,and the shrewd young ape-man was convinced that he was lost.

To Tarzan this was scarcely incomprehensible; his judgmenttold him that no man would venture toward the village of thecruel blacks armed only with a spear which, from the awkwardway in which he carried it, was evidently an unaccustomedweapon to this white man. Nor was he following thetrail of the old men. That, they had crossed and left longsince, though it had been fresh and plain before Tarzan's eyes.

Tarzan was perplexed. The fierce jungle would make easyprey of this unprotected stranger in a very short time if hewere not guided quickly to the beach.

Yes, there was Numa, the lion, even now, stalking thewhite man a dozen paces to the right.

Clayton heard the great body paralleling his course, andnow there rose upon the evening air the beast's thunderousroar. The man stopped with upraised spear and faced thebrush from which issued the awful sound. The shadows weredeepening, darkness was settling in.

God! To die here alone, beneath the fangs of wild beasts;to be torn and rended; to feel the hot breath of the brute onhis face as the great paw crushed down up his breast!

For a moment all was still. Clayton stood rigid, with raisedspear. Presently a faint rustling of the bush apprised him ofthe stealthy creeping of the thing behind. It was gathering forthe spring. At last he saw it, not twenty feet away--the long,lithe, muscular body and tawny head of a huge black-maned lion.

The beast was upon its belly, moving forward very slowly.As its eyes met Clayton's it stopped, and deliberately,cautiously gathered its hind quarters behind it.

In agony the man watched, fearful to launch his spear,powerless to fly.

He heard a noise in the tree above him. Some new danger,he thought, but he dared not take his eyes from the yellowgreen orbs before him. There was a sharp twang as of a brokenbanjo-string, and at the same instant an arrow appearedin the yellow hide of the crouching lion.

With a roar of pain and anger the beast sprang; but, somehow,Clayton stumbled to one side, and as he turned again toface the infuriated king of beasts, he was appalled at the sightwhich confronted him. Almost simultaneously with the lion'sturning to renew the attack a half-naked giant dropped fromthe tree above squarely on the brute's back.

With lightning speed an arm that was banded layers of ironmuscle encircled the huge neck, and the great beast wasraised from behind, roaring and pawing the air--raised aseasily as Clayton would have lifted a pet dog.

The scene he witnessed there in the twilight depths of theAfrican jungle was burned forever into the Englishman's brain.

The man before him was the embodiment of physical perfectionand giant strength; yet it was not upon these he dependedin his battle with the great cat, for mighty as were hismuscles, they were as nothing by comparison with Numa's.To his agility, to his brain and to his long keen knife heowed his supremacy.

His right arm encircled the lion's neck, while the left handplunged the knife time and again into the unprotected sidebehind the left shoulder. The infuriated beast, pulled up andbackwards until he stood upon his hind legs, struggledimpotently in this unnatural position.

Had the battle been of a few seconds' longer duration theoutcome might have been different, but it was all accomplishedso quickly that the lion had scarce time to recover from theconfusion of its surprise ere it sank lifeless to the ground.

Then the strange figure which had vanquished it stooderect upon the carcass, and throwing back the wild andhandsome head, gave out the fearsome cry which a few momentsearlier had so startled Clayton.

Before him he saw the figure of a young man, naked exceptfor a loin cloth and a few barbaric ornaments aboutarms and legs; on the breast a priceless diamond locketgleaming against a smooth brown skin.

The hunting knife had been returned to its homely sheath,and the man was gathering up his bow and quiver fromwhere he had tossed them when he leaped to attack the lion.

Clayton spoke to the stranger in English, thanking him forhis brave rescue and complimenting him on the wondrousstrength and dexterity he had displayed, but the only answerwas a steady stare and a faint shrug of the mighty shoulders,which might betoken either disparagement of the servicerendered, or ignorance of Clayton's language.

When the bow and quiver had been slung to his back thewild man, for such Clayton now thought him, once moredrew his knife and deftly carved a dozen large strips of meatfrom the lion's carcass. Then, squatting upon his haunches,he proceeded to eat, first motioning Clayton to join him.

The strong white teeth sank into the raw and dripping fleshin apparent relish of the meal, but Clayton could not bringhimself to share the uncooked meat with his strange host;instead he watched him, and presently there dawned upon himthe conviction that this was Tarzan of the Apes, whose noticehe had seen posted upon the cabin door that morning.

If so he must speak English.

Again Clayton attempted speech with the ape-man; but thereplies, now vocal, were in a strange tongue, which resembledthe chattering of monkeys mingled with the growling of somewild beast.

No, this could not be Tarzan of the Apes, for it was veryevident that he was an utter stranger to English.

When Tarzan had completed his repast he rose and, pointinga very different direction from that which Clayton hadbeen pursuing, started off through the jungle toward the pointhe had indicated.

Clayton, bewildered and confused, hesitated to follow him,for he thought he was but being led more deeply into themazes of the forest; but the ape-man, seeing him disinclinedto follow, returned, and, grasping him by the coat, draggedhim along until he was convinced that Clayton understood whatwas required of him. Then he left him to follow voluntarily.

The Englishman, finally concluding that he was a prisoner,saw no alternative open but to accompany his captor, andthus they traveled slowly through the jungle while the sablemantle of the impenetrable forest night fell about them, andthe stealthy footfalls of padded paws mingled with the breakingof twigs and the wild calls of the savage life that Claytonfelt closing in upon him.

Suddenly Clayton heard the faint report of a firearm--asingle shot, and then silence.

In the cabin by the beach two thoroughly terrified womenclung to each other as they crouched upon the low bench inthe gathering darkness.

The Negress sobbed hysterically, bemoaning the evil daythat had witnessed her departure from her dear Maryland,while the white girl, dry eyed and outwardly calm, was tornby inward fears and forebodings. She feared not more forherself than for the three men whom she knew to be wanderingin the abysmal depths of the savage jungle, from whichshe now heard issuing the almost incessant shrieks and roars,barkings and growlings of its terrifying and fearsome denizensas they sought their prey.

And now there came the sound of a heavy body brushingagainst the side of the cabin. She could hear the great paddedpaws upon the ground outside. For an instant, all was silence;even the bedlam of the forest died to a faint murmur. Thenshe distinctly heard the beast outside sniffing at the door, nottwo feet from where she crouched. Instinctively the girlshuddered, and shrank closer to the black woman.

"Hush!" she whispered. "Hush, Esmeralda," for thewoman's sobs and groans seemed to have attracted the thingthat stalked there just beyond the thin wall.

A gentle scratching sound was heard on the door. Thebrute tried to force an entrance; but presently this ceased,and again she heard the great pads creeping stealthily aroundthe cabin. Again they stopped--beneath the window onwhich the terrified eyes of the girl now glued themselves.

"God!" she murmured, for now, silhouetted against themoonlit sky beyond, she saw framed in the tiny square of thelatticed window the head of a huge lioness. The gleamingeyes were fixed upon her in intent ferocity.

"Look, Esmeralda!" she whispered. "For God's sake, whatshall we do? Look! Quick! The window!"

Esmeralda, cowering still closer to her mistress, took onefrightened glance toward the little square of moonlight, justas the lioness emitted a low, savage snarl.

The sight that met the poor woman's eyes was too muchfor the already overstrung nerves.

"Oh, Gaberelle!" she shrieked, and slid to the floor an inertand senseless mass.

For what seemed an eternity the great brute stood with itsforepaws upon the sill, glaring into the little room. Presentlyit tried the strength of the lattice with its great talons.

The girl had almost ceased to breathe, when, to her relief,the head disappeared and she heard the brute's footsteps leavingthe window. But now they came to the door again, andonce more the scratching commenced; this time with increasingforce until the great beast was tearing at the massive panelsin a perfect frenzy of eagerness to seize its defenseless victims.

Could Jane have known the immense strength of that door,built piece by piece, she would have felt less fear of thelioness reaching her by this avenue.

Little did John Clayton imagine when he fashioned thatcrude but mighty portal that one day, twenty years later, itwould shield a fair American girl, then unborn, from theteeth and talons of a man-eater.

For fully twenty minutes the brute alternately sniffed andtore at the door, occasionally giving voice to a wild, savagecry of baffled rage. At length, however, she gave up theattempt, and Jane heard her returning toward the window,beneath which she paused for an instant, and then launchedher great weight against the timeworn lattice.

The girl heard the wooden rods groan beneath the impact; butthey held, and the huge body dropped back to the ground below.

Again and again the lioness repeated these tactics, untilfinally the horrified prisoner within saw a portion of thelattice give way, and in an instant one great paw and the headof the animal were thrust within the room.

Slowly the powerful neck and shoulders spread the barsapart, and the lithe body protruded farther and farther intothe room.

As in a trance, the girl rose, her hand upon her breast,wide eyes staring horror-stricken into the snarling face of thebeast scarce ten feet from her. At her feet lay the prostrateform of the Negress. If she could but arouse her, their combinedefforts might possibly avail to beat back the fierce andbloodthirsty intruder.

Jane stooped to grasp the black woman by the shoulder.Roughly she shook her.

"Esmeralda! Esmeralda!" she cried. "Help me, or we are lost."

Esmeralda opened her eyes. The first object theyencountered was the dripping fangs of the hungry lioness.

With a horrified scream the poor woman rose to her hands andknees, and in this position scurried across the room, shrieking: "O Gaberelle! O Gaberelle!" at the top of her lungs.

Esmeralda weighed some two hundred and eighty pounds,and her extreme haste, added to her extreme corpulency,produced a most amazing result when Esmeralda elected totravel on all fours.

For a moment the lioness remained quiet with intense gazedirected upon the flitting Esmeralda, whose goal appeared tobe the cupboard, into which she attempted to propel her hugebulk; but as the shelves were but nine or ten inches apart, sheonly succeeded in getting her head in; whereupon, with a finalscreech, which paled the jungle noises into insignificance, shefainted once again.

With the subsidence of Esmeralda the lioness renewed herefforts to wriggle her huge bulk through the weakening lattice.

The girl, standing pale and rigid against the farther wall,sought with ever-increasing terror for some loophole of escape.Suddenly her hand, tight-pressed against her bosom, feltthe hard outline of the revolver that Clayton had left withher earlier in the day.

Quickly she snatched it from its hiding-place, and, levelingit full at the lioness's face, pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of flame, the roar of the discharge, andan answering roar of pain and anger from the beast.

Jane Porter saw the great form disappear from the window,and then she, too, fainted, the revolver falling at her side.

But Sabor was not killed. The bullet had but inflicted apainful wound in one of the great shoulders. It was thesurprise at the blinding flash and the deafening roar that hadcaused her hasty but temporary retreat.

In another instant she was back at the lattice, and withrenewed fury was clawing at the aperture, but with lessenedeffect, since the wounded member was almost useless.

She saw her prey--the two women--lying senseless uponthe floor. There was no longer any resistance to be overcome.Her meat lay before her, and Sabor had only to worm herway through the lattice to claim it.

Slowly she forced her great bulk, inch by inch, through theopening. Now her head was through, now one great forearmand shoulder.

Carefully she drew up the wounded member to insinuate itgently beyond the tight pressing bars.

A moment more and both shoulders through, the long,sinuous body and the narrow hips would glide quickly after.

It was on this sight that Jane Porter again opened her eyes.