Presently one of his hands touched the prostrate figure of the sleeper. Lightly, cautiously, Stimbol groped until he had definitely discovered the position in which his victim lay. In one hand, ready, he grasped the keen knife. He scarce dared breathe for fear he might awaken the ape-man. He prayed that Tarzan was a sound sleeper, and he prayed that the first blow of his weapon would reach that savage heart.
Now he was ready! He had located the exact spot where he must strike! He raised his knife and struck. His victim shuddered spasmodically. Again and again with savage maniacal force and speed the knife was plunged into the soft flesh. Stimbol felt the warm blood spurt out upon his hand and wrist.
At length, satisfied that his mission had been accomplished, he scurried from the beyt. Now he was trembling so that he could scarcely stand—terrified, revolted by the horrid crime he had committed.
Wild-eyed, haggard, he stumbled to the mukaad of Ibn Jad’s beyt and there he collapsed. The sheik stepped from the women’s quarters and looked down upon the trembling figure that the dim light of a paper lantern revealed.
“What doest thou here, Nasrany?” he demanded.
“I have done it, Ibn Jad!” muttered Stimbol.
“Done what?” cried the sheik.
“Slain Tarzan of the Apes.”
“Ai! Ai!” screamed Ibn Jad. “Tollog! Where art thou? Hirfa! Ateja! Come! Didst hear what the Nasrany sayeth?”
Hirfa and Ateja rushed into the mukaad.
“Didst hear him?” repeated Ibn Jad. “He hath slain my good friend the great sheykh of the Jungle. Motlog! Fahd! Haste!” His voice had been rising until now he was screaming at the top of his lungs and Arab were streaming toward his beyt from all directions.
Stimbol, stunned by what he had done, dumb from surprise and terror at the unexpected attitude of Ibn Jad, crouched speechless in the center of the mukaad.
“Seize him!” cried the sheik to the first man that arrived. “He hath slain Tarzan of the Apes, our great friend, who was to preserve us and lead us from this land of dangers. Now all wilt be our enemies. The friends of Tarzan wilt fall upon us and slay us. Allah, bear witness that I be free from guilt in this matter and let Thy wrath and the wrath of the friends of Tarzan fall upon this guilty man!”
By this time the entire population of the menzil was gathered in front of the sheik’s beyt, and if they were surprised by his protestations of sudden affection for Tarzan they gave no evidence of it.
“Take him away!” commanded Ibn Jad. “In the morning we shall gather and decide what we must do.”
They dragged the terrified Stimbol to Fahd’s beyt, where they bound him hand and foot and left him for Fahd to guard. When they had gone the Beduin leaned low over Stimbol, and whispered in his ear.
“Didst really slay the jungle sheykh?” he demanded.
“Ibn Jad forced me to do so and now he turns against me,” whimpered Stimbol.
“And tomorrow he will have you killed so that he may tell the friends of Tarzan that he hath punished the slayer of Tarzan,” said Fahd.
“Save me, Fahd!” begged Stimbol. “Save me and I will give you twenty million francs—I swear it! Once I am safe in the nearest European colony I will get the money for you. Think of it, Fahd—twenty million francs!”
“I am thinking of it, Nasrany,” replied the Beduin, “and I think that thou liest. There be not that much money in the world!”
“I swear that I have ten times that amount. If I have lied to you you may kill me. Save me! Save me!”
“Twenty million francs!” murmured Fahd. “Perchance he does not lie! Listen, Nasrany. I do not know that I can save thee, but I shall try, and if I succeed and thou forgettest the twenty million francs I shall kill thee if I have to follow thee across the world—dost understand?”
Ibn Jad called two ignorant slaves to him and commanded them to go to the beyt that had been Zeyd’s and carry Tarzan’s body to the edge of the menzil where they were to dig a grave and bury it.
With paper lanterns they went to the beyt of death and wrapping the dead man in the old burnous that already covered him they carried him across the menzil and laid him down while they dug a shallow grave; and so, beneath a forest giant in the land that he loved the grave of Tarzan of the Apes was made.
Roughly the slaves rolled the corpse into the hole they had made, shovelled the dirt upon it and left it in its lonely, unmarked tomb.
Early the next morning Ibn Jad called about him the elders of the tribe, and when they were gathered it was noted that Tollog was missing, and though a search was made he could not be found. Fahd suggested that he had gone forth early to hunt.
Ibn Jad explained to them that if they were to escape the wrath of the friends of Tarzan they must take immediate steps to disprove their responsibility for the slaying of the ape-man and that they might only do this and express their good faith by punishing the murderer.
It was not difficult to persuade them to take the life of a Christian and there was only one that demurred. This was Fahd.
“There are two reasons, Ibn Jad, why we should not take the life of this Nasrany,” he said.
“By Ullah, there never be any reason why a true believer should not take the life of a Nasrany!” cried one of the old men.
“Listen,” admonished Fahd, “to what I have in mind and then I am sure that you will agree that I am right.”
“Speak, Fahd,” said Ibn Jad.
“This Nasrany is a rich and powerful man in his own beled. If it be possible to spare his life he will command a great ransom—dead he is worth nothing to us. If by chance, the friends of Tarzan do not
