For two days Werper sought for the party that hadaccompanied him from the camp to the barrier cliffs;but not until late in the afternoon of the second daydid he find clew to its whereabouts, and then in suchgruesome form that he was totally unnerved by thesight.

In an open glade he came upon the bodies of three ofthe blacks, terribly mutilated, nor did it requireconsiderable deductive power to explain their murder.Of the little party only these three had not beenslaves. The others, evidently tempted to hope forfreedom from their cruel Arab master, had takenadvantage of their separation from the main camp, toslay the three representatives of the hated power whichheld them in slavery, and vanish into the jungle.

Cold sweat exuded from Werper's forehead as hecontemplated the fate which chance had permitted him toescape, for had he been present when the conspiracybore fruit, he, too, must have been of the garnered.

Tarzan showed not the slightest surprise or interest inthe discovery. Inherent in him was a callousedfamiliarity with violent death. The refinements of hisrecent civilization expunged by the force of the sadcalamity which had befallen him, left only theprimitive sensibilities which his childhood's traininghad imprinted indelibly upon the fabric of his mind.

The training of Kala, the examples and precepts ofKerchak, of Tublat, and of Terkoz now formed the basisof his every thought and action. He retained amechanical knowledge of French and English speech.Werper had spoken to him in French, and Tarzan hadreplied in the same tongue without consciousrealization that he had departed from the anthropoidalspeech in which he had addressed La. Had Werper usedEnglish, the result would have been the same.

Again, that night, as the two sat before their campfire, Tarzan played with his shining baubles. Werperasked him what they were and where he had found them.The ape-man replied that they were gay-colored stones,with which he purposed fashioning a necklace, and thathe had found them far beneath the sacrificial court ofthe temple of the Flaming God.

Werper was relieved to find that Tarzan had noconception of the value of the gems. This would makeit easier for the Belgian to obtain possession of them.Possibly the man would give them to him for the asking.Werper reached out his hand toward the little pile thatTarzan had arranged upon a piece of flat wood beforehim.

"Let me see them," said the Belgian.

Tarzan placed a large palm over his treasure. He baredhis fighting fangs, and growled. Werper withdrew hishand more quickly than he had advanced it. Tarzanresumed his playing with the gems, and his conversationwith Werper as though nothing unusual had occurred.He had but exhibited the beast's jealous protectiveinstinct for a possession. When he killed he sharedthe meat with Werper; but had Werper ever, by accident,laid a hand upon Tarzan's share, he would have arousedthe same savage, and resentful warning.

From that occurrence dated the beginning of a greatfear in the breast of the Belgian for his savagecompanion. He had never understood the transformationthat had been wrought in Tarzan by the blow upon hishead, other than to attribute it to a form of amnesia.That Tarzan had once been, in truth, a savage, junglebeast, Werper had not known, and so, of course, hecould not guess that the man had reverted to the statein which his childhood and young manhood had beenspent.

Now Werper saw in the Englishman a dangerous maniac,whom the slightest untoward accident might turn uponhim with rending fangs. Not for a moment did Werperattempt to delude himself into the belief that he coulddefend himself successfully against an attack by theape-man. His one hope lay in eluding him, and makingfor the far distant camp of Achmet Zek as rapidly as hecould; but armed only with the sacrificial knife,Werper shrank from attempting the journey through thejungle. Tarzan constituted a protection that was by nomeans despicable, even in the face of the largercarnivora, as Werper had reason to acknowledge from theevidence he had witnessed in the Oparian temple.

Too, Werper had his covetous soul set upon the pouch ofgems, and so he was torn between the various emotionsof avarice and fear. But avarice it was that burnedmost strongly in his breast, to the end that he daredthe dangers and suffered the terrors of constantassociation with him he thought a mad man, rather thangive up the hope of obtaining possession of the fortunewhich the contents of the little pouch represented.

Achmet Zek should know nothing of these--these would befor Werper alone, and so soon as he could encompass hisdesign he would reach the coast and take passage forAmerica, where he could conceal himself beneath theveil of a new identity and enjoy to some measure thefruits of his theft. He had it all planned out, didLieutenant Albert Werper, living in anticipation theluxurious life of the idle rich. He even found himselfregretting that America was so provincial, and thatnowhere in the new world was a city that might comparewith his beloved Brussels.

It was upon the third day of their progress from Oparthat the keen ears of Tarzan caught the sound of menbehind them. Werper heard nothing above the humming ofthe jungle insects, and the chattering life of thelesser monkeys and the birds.

For a time Tarzan stood in statuesque silence,listening, his sensitive nostrils dilating as heassayed each passing breeze. Then he withdrew Werperinto the concealment of thick brush, and waited.Presently, along the game trail that Werper and Tarzanhad been following, there came in sight a sleek,black warrior, alert and watchful.

In single file behind him, there followed, one afteranother, near fifty others, each burdened with twodull-yellow ingots lashed upon his back. Werperrecognized the party immediately as that which hadaccompanied Tarzan on his journey to Opar. He glancedat the ape-man; but in the savage, watchful eyes he sawno recognition of Basuli and those other loyal Waziri.

When all had passed, Tarzan rose and emerged fromconcealment. He looked down the trail in the directionthe party had gone. Then he turned to Werper.

"We will follow and slay them," he said.

"Why?" asked the Belgian.

"They are black," explained Tarzan. "It was a blackwho killed Kala. They are the enemies of theManganis."

Werper did not relish the idea of engaging in a battlewith Basuli and his fierce fighting men. And, again,he had welcomed the sight of them returning toward theGreystoke bungalow, for he had begun to have doubts asto his ability to retrace his steps to the Waziricountry. Tarzan, he knew, had not the remotest idea ofwhither they were going. By keeping at a safe distancebehind the laden warriors, they would have nodifficulty in following them home. Once at thebungalow, Werper knew the way to the camp of AchmetZek. There was still another reason why he did notwish to interfere with the Waziri--they were bearingthe great burden of treasure in the direction he wishedit borne. The farther they took it, the less thedistance that he and Achmet Zek would have to transport it.

He argued with the ape-man therefore, against thelatter's desire to exterminate the blacks, and at lasthe prevailed upon Tarzan to follow them in peace,saying that he was sure they would lead them out of theforest into a rich country, teeming with game.

It was many marches from Opar to the Waziri country;but at last came the hour when Tarzan and the Belgian,following the trail of the warriors, topped the lastrise, and saw before them the broad Waziri plain, thewinding river, and the distant forests to the north andwest.

A mile or more ahead of them, the line of warriors wascreeping like a giant caterpillar through the tallgrasses of the plain. Beyond, grazing herds of zebra,hartebeest, and topi dotted the level landscape, whilecloser to the river a bull buffalo, his head andshoulders protruding from the reeds watched theadvancing blacks for a moment, only to turn at last anddisappear into the safety of his dank and gloomyretreat.

Tarzan looked out across the familiar vista with nofaintest gleam of recognition in his eyes. He saw thegame animals, and his mouth watered; but he did notlook in the direction of his bungalow. Werper,however, did. A puzzled expression entered theBelgian's eyes. He shaded them with his palms andgazed long and earnestly toward the spot where thebungalow had stood. He could not credit the testimonyof his eyes--there was no bungalow--no barns--noout- houses. The corrals, the hay stacks--all were gone.What could it mean?

And then, slowly there filtered into Werper'sconsciousness an explanation of the havoc that had beenwrought in that peaceful valley since last his eyes hadrested upon it--Achmet Zek had been there!

Basuli and his warriors had noted the devastation themoment they had come in sight of the farm. Now theyhastened on toward it talking excitedly amongthemselves in animated speculation upon the cause andmeaning of the catastrophe.

When, at last they crossed the trampled garden andstood before the charred ruins of their master'sbungalow, their greatest fears became convictions inthe light of the evidence about them.

Remnants of human dead, half devoured by prowlinghyenas and others of the carnivora which infested theregion, lay rotting upon the ground, and among thecorpses remained sufficient remnants of their clothingand ornaments to make clear to Basuli the frightfulstory of the disaster that had befallen his master'shouse.

"The Arabs," he said, as his men clustered about him.

The Waziri gazed about in mute rage for severalminutes. Everywhere they encountered only furtherevidence of the ruthlessness of the cruel enemy thathad come during the Great Bwana's absence and laidwaste his property.

"What did they with 'Lady'?" asked one of the blacks.

They had always called Lady Greystoke thus.

"The women they would have taken with them," saidBasuli. "Our women and his."

A giant black raised his spear above his head, and gavevoice to a savage cry of rage and hate. The othersfollowed his example. Basuli silenced them with a gesture.

"This is no time for useless noises of the mouth," hesaid. "The Great Bwana has taught us that it is actsby which things are done, not words. Let us save ourbreath--we shall need it all to follow up the Arabs andslay them. If 'Lady' and our women live the greaterthe need of haste, and warriors cannot travel fast uponempty lungs."

From the shelter of the reeds along the river, Werperand Tarzan watched the blacks. They saw them dig atrench with their knives and fingers. They saw themlay their yellow burdens in it and scoop the overturnedearth back over the tops of the ingots.

Tarzan seemed little interested, after Werper hadassured him that that which they buried was not good toeat; but Werper was intensely interested. He wouldhave given much had he had his own followers with him,that he might take away the treasure as soon as theblacks left, for he was sure that they would leave thisscene of desolation and death as soon as possible.

The treasure buried, the blacks removed themselves ashort distance up wind from the fetid corpses, wherethey made camp, that they might rest before setting outin pursuit of the Arabs. It was already dusk. Werperand Tarzan sat devouring some pieces of meat they hadbrought from their last camp. The Belgian was occupiedwith his plans for the immediate future. He waspositive that the Waziri would pursue Achmet Zek,for he knew enough of savage warfare, and of thecharacteristics of the Arabs and their degradedfollowers to guess that they had carried the Waziriwomen off into slavery. This alone would assureimmediate pursuit by so warlike a people as the Waziri.

Werper felt that he should find the means and theopportunity to push on ahead, that he might warn AchmetZek of the coming of Basuli, and also of the locationof the buried treasure. What the Arab would now dowith Lady Greystoke, in view of the mental afflictionof her husband, Werper neither knew nor cared. It wasenough that the golden treasure buried upon the site ofthe burned bungalow was infinitely more valuable thanany ransom that would have occurred even to theavaricious mind of the Arab, and if Werper couldpersuade the raider to share even a portion of it withhim he would be well satisfied.

But by far the most important consideration, to Werper,at least, was the incalculably valuable treasure in thelittle leathern pouch at Tarzan's side. If he couldbut obtain possession of this! He must! He would!

His eyes wandered to the object of his greed.They measured Tarzan's giant frame, and rested uponthe rounded muscles of his arms. It was hopeless.What could he, Werper, hope to accomplish, other than hisown death, by an attempt to wrest the gems from theirsavage owner?

Disconsolate, Werper threw himself upon his side.His head was pillowed on one arm, the other rested acrosshis face in such a way that his eyes were hidden fromthe ape-man, though one of them was fastened upon himfrom beneath the shadow of the Belgian's forearm.For a time he lay thus, glowering at Tarzan, andoriginating schemes for plundering him of his treasure--schemes that were discarded as futile as rapidly asthey were born.

Tarzan presently let his own eyes rest upon Werper.The Belgian saw that he was being watched, and lay verystill. After a few moments he simulated the regularbreathing of deep slumber.

Tarzan had been thinking. He had seen the Waziri burytheir belongings. Werper had told him that they werehiding them lest some one find them and take them away.This seemed to Tarzan a splendid plan for safeguardingvaluables. Since Werper had evinced a desire topossess his glittering pebbles, Tarzan, with thesuspicions of a savage, had guarded the baubles, ofwhose worth he was entirely ignorant, as zealously asthough they spelled life or death to him.

For a long time the ape-man sat watching his companion.At last, convinced that he slept, Tarzan withdrew hishunting knife and commenced to dig a hole in the groundbefore him. With the blade he loosened up the earth,and with his hands he scooped it out until he hadexcavated a little cavity a few inches in diameter, andfive or six inches in depth. Into this he placed thepouch of jewels. Werper almost forgot to breathe afterthe fashion of a sleeper as he saw what the ape-man wasdoing--he scarce repressed an ejaculation ofsatisfaction.

Tarzan become suddenly rigid as his keen ears noted thecessation of the regular inspirations and expirationsof his companion. His narrowed eyes bored straightdown upon the Belgian. Werper felt that he was lost--he must risk all on his ability to carry on thedeception. He sighed, threw both arms outward, andturned over on his back mumbling as though in thethroes of a bad dream. A moment later he resumed theregular breathing.

Now he could not watch Tarzan, but he was sure that theman sat for a long time looking at him. Then, faintly,Werper heard the other's hands scraping dirt, and laterpatting it down. He knew then that the jewels wereburied.

It was an hour before Werper moved again, then herolled over facing Tarzan and opened his eyes. Theape-man slept. By reaching out his hand Werper couldtouch the spot where the pouch was buried.

For a long time he lay watching and listening.He moved about, making more noise than necessary,yet Tarzan did not awaken. He drew the sacrificial knifefrom his belt, and plunged it into the ground.Tarzan did not move. Cautiously the Belgian pushed theblade downward through the loose earth above the pouch.He felt the point touch the soft, tough fabric of theleather. Then he pried down upon the handle.Slowly the little mound of loose earth rose and parted.An instant later a corner of the pouch came into view.Werper pulled it from its hiding place, and tucked itin his shirt. Then he refilled the hole and pressedthe dirt carefully down as it had been before.

Greed had prompted him to an act, the discovery ofwhich by his companion could lead only to the mostfrightful consequences for Werper. Already he couldalmost feel those strong, white fangs buryingthemselves in his neck. He shuddered. Far out acrossthe plain a leopard screamed, and in the dense reedsbehind him some great beast moved on padded feet.

Werper feared these prowlers of the night; butinfinitely more he feared the just wrath of the humanbeast sleeping at his side. With utmost caution theBelgian arose. Tarzan did not move. Werper took a fewsteps toward the plain and the distant forest to thenorthwest, then he paused and fingered the hilt of thelong knife in his belt. He turned and looked down uponthe sleeper.

"Why not?" he mused. "Then I should be safe."

He returned and bent above the ape-man. Clutchedtightly in his hand was the sacrificial knife of theHigh Priestess of the Flaming God!