The trees ahead of him grew sufficiently close together so that he could move through their branches; and this he elected to do, since always it gave him an advantage to come from above upon those he sought, especially where, in the case of men, they would not be expecting him.
The perception of the eyes of man is normally in a horizontal plane, while those of the cat family, with their vertical pupils, detect things above them far more quickly than would a man. Perhaps this is because for ages the cat family has hunted its prey in trees, and even though the lion no longer does so, he still has the eyes of his smaller progenitors. As Tarzan swung in the direction of the strange scent spoor, he was aware that the odor of the lion was becoming stronger much more rapidly than the other scent, a fact which convinced him that the lion was approaching the man, though whether by accident or intent he could not of course determine; but the fact that the lion scent was that of a hungry lion, led him to believe that the beast was stalking the man.
Any beast with a full belly gives off a different odor from one that is empty; and as an empty stomach is always a hungry one, and as hungry lions are hunting lions, to Tar-zan's mind it was a foregone conclusion that the man was the quarry and the lion the hunter.
Tarzan came in sight of the man first, and the initial glimpse brought the Lord of the Jungle to a sudden stop.
Here, indeed, was a white man, but how different from any white man that Tarzan had seen before! The fellow was clothed only in a loin cloth that appeared to be made of gorilla hide. His ankles and wrists and arms were loaded with bracelets; a many-stranded necklace of human teeth, fell across his breast. A slender cylinder of bone or ivory ran transversely through the pierced septum of his nose; his ears were ornamented with heavy rings. Except for a mane of hair from his forehead to the nape of his neck, his skull was shaved; and in this mane were fastened gay feathers which floated above a face hideously painted; and yet, with all these earmarks of the savage Negro, the man was undoubtedly white, even though his skin was bronzed by much exposure to the weather.
He was sitting on the ground with his back against a tree, eating something from a skin bag fastened to the string that supported his loin cloth, and it was apparent that he was absolutely unaware of the proximity of the lion.
Cautiously, silently, Tarzan moved nearer until he was in the tree directly above the unconscious man. As he examined him more closely, he recalled the many fables concerning the Kavuru, and especially the one which described them as white savages.
This stranger then, might be a Kavuru. It seemed reasonable to assume that he was, but further speculation on this subject was interrupted by a low snarl a short distance away.
Instantly the savage white was on his feet. In one hand he grasped a heavy spear, in the other a crude knife.
The lion burst from the underbrush at full charge. He was so close that the man had no chance to seek safety in the tree above him. All that he could do, he did. Swiftly his spear hand flew back, and in the next lightning move he launched the heavy weapon.
Perhaps the suddenness of this unexpected attack had momentarily unnerved him, for he made a clean miss; and simultaneously Tarzan leaped for the carnivore from a branch above the two.
He struck the lion at the shoulder diagonally from above just as he reared upon his hind legs to seize his victim. The impact of the ape-man's body toppled the lion upon its side. With a frightful roar, it regained its feet but not before the ape-man had locked his powerful legs around the small of its body and encircled its massive throat with one great arm.
As the two beasts fought, the white savage stood an awestruck witness to the strange duel. He heard the growls and roars of the man mingle with those of the lion. He saw them roll upon the ground together as lashing talons sought to reach the bronzed hide of the man-thing; and then he saw the knife hand rise and fall; and each time it drove the blade deep into the side of the king of beasts, until at last the roaring ceased and the tawny body collapsed in the final spasm of death.
The ape-man leaped erect. He placed a foot upon the carcass of his foe and raising his face to the sky voiced the kill-cry of the victorious bull ape.
At that weird and hideous call, the white savage shrank back and clutched the hilt of his knife more tightly.
As the last weird note died away in the distance, Tarzan, turned and faced the creature whose life he had saved.
The two stood appraising each other in silence for a moment; then the savage spoke. 'Who are you?' he demanded, in the same dialect that the Bukena used.
'I am Tarzan of the Apes,' replied the ape-man. 'And you?'
'I am Ydeni, the Kavuru.'
Tarzan experienced that sense of satisfaction which one feels when events bear out his judgment. This was, indeed, a bit of good fortune, for now he would at least know what sort of people the Kavuru were. Perhaps this fellow would even guide him to the country he sought.
'But why did you kill the lion?' asked Ydeni.
'If I had not, he would have killed you.'
'Why should you care if he killed me? Am I not a stranger?'
The ape-man shrugged. 'Perhaps it was because you are a white man,' he said.
Ydeni shook his head. 'I do not understand you. I've never seen anyone like you before. You are not a black; you are not a Kavuru. What are you?'
'I am Tarzan,' replied the ape-man. 'I am looking for the village of the Kavuru; now you can take me there. I wish to speak with your chief.'
Ydeni scowled and shook his head. 'No one comes to the village of the Kavuru,' he said, 'other than those who come there to die. Because you have saved my life, I will not take you there, nor will I kill you now, as I should. Go your way, Tarzan, and see that it does not lead you to the village of the Kavuru.'
Chapter 9 Sheeta, the Leopard
WITH THE aeroplane party safely deposited on the ground, Brown cut a narrow path to the trail, using a small hand axe that fortunately had been included in the heterogeneous and generally quite useless impedimenta that the Prince and Princess Sborov had thought essential to the success of their expedition.
Tibbs had offered to help cut trail, but a lifetime of valeting had not fitted him for anything so practical as wielding a hand axe. He meant well, but he could hit nothing that he aimed at; and for fear that he might commit mayhem or suicide, Brown took the implement from him.
Sborov did not offer to help; and Brown ignored him entirely, knowing that he would prove less efficient, if possible, than Tibbs. But when it came to transporting the baggage, the pilot insisted that the prince do his share.
'You may be the scion of a long line of cab drivers,' he said, 'but you are going to work or get a punch on the nose.'
Sborov grumbled, but he worked.
After the luggage had been transported to the little clearing beside the stream that Jane had found, she directed the building of a boma and some rude shelters.
In this, the brunt of the work fell on Brown and Jane, though Annette and Tibbs assisted to the best of their ability. No one expected Kitty Sborov to do anything but moan, and she didn't. Alexis was assigned to the building of the boma after someone else had cut the brush—a job that was far beyond either his physical or mental attainments.
'I can't see how guys like him ever live to grow up,' grumbled Brown, 'nor what good they are after they do grow up. I never seen such a total loss before in my life.'
Jane laughed. 'He dances divinely, Brown,' she said.
'I'll bet he does,' replied the pilot. 'Damned gigolo, bringing along just a dinky little hand axe and rifles without any ammunition.' He spat the words out disgustedly. 'And look at all this here junk. Maybe there's something in it; we ought to take an inventory and see what we got.'
