“Billah!” ejaculated Ibn Jad. “It came from the midst of the menzil, and it was the voice of a beast, where there are only men and a few domestic animals.”
“Could it have been—?” The speaker stopped as though fearful that the thing he would suggest might indeed be true.
“But he is a man and that was the voice of a beast,” insisted Ibn Jad. “It could not have been he.”
“But he is a Nasrany,” reminded Fahd. “Perhaps he has league with Sheytan.”
“And the sound came from the direction where he lies bound in a hejra,” observed another.
“Come!” said Ibn Jad. “Let us investigate.”
With muskets ready the Arab, lighting the way with paper lanterns, approached the hejra where Tarzan lay. Fearfully the foremost looked within.
“He is here,” he reported.
Tarzan, who was sitting in the center of the tent, surveyed the Arab somewhat contemptuously. Ibn Jad pressed forward.
“You heard a cry?” he demanded of the ape-man.
“Yes, I heard it. Camest thou, Sheykh Ibn Jad, to disturb my rest upon so trivial an errand, or camest thou to release me?”
“What manner of cry was it? What did it signify?” asked Ibn Jad.
Tarzan of the Apes smiled grimly. “It was but the call of a beast to one of his kind,” he replied. “Does the noble Beduwy tremble thus always when he hears the voices of the jungle people?”
“Gluck!” growled Ibn Jad, “the Beduw fear naught. We thought the sound came from this hejra and we hastened hither believing some jungle beast had crept within the menzil and attacked thee. Tomorrow it is the thought of Ibn Jad to release thee.”
“Why not tonight?”
“My people fear thee. They would that when you are released you depart hence immediately.”
“I shall. I have no desire to remain in thy lice infested menzil.”
“We could not send thee alone into the jungle at night where el-adrea is abroad hunting,” protested the sheik.
Tarzan of the Apes smiled again, one of his rare smiles. “Tarzan is more secure in his teeming jungle than are the Beduwy in their desert,” he replied. “The jungle night has no terrors for Tarzan.”
“Tomorrow,” snapped the sheik and then, motioning to his followers, he departed.
Tarzan watched their paper lanterns bobbing across the camp to the sheik’s beyt and then he stretched himself at full length and pressed an ear to the ground.
When the inhabitants of the Arab menzil heard the cry of the beast shatter the quiet of the new night it aroused within their breasts a certain vague unrest, but otherwise it was meaningless to them. Yet there was one far off in the jungle who caught the call faintly and understood—a huge beast, the great, gray dreadnaught of the jungle, Tantor the elephant. Again he raised his trunk aloft and trumpeted loudly. His little eyes gleamed redly wicked as, a moment later, he swung off through the forest at a rapid trot.
Slowly silence fell upon the menzil of Sheik Ibn Jad as the Arab and their slaves sought their sleeping mats. Only the sheik and his brother sat smoking in the sheik’s beyt—smoking and whispering in low tones.
“Do not let the slaves see you slay the Nasrany, Tollog,” cautioned Ibn Jad. “Attend to that yourself first in secrecy and in silence, then quietly arouse two of the slaves. Fejjuan would be as good as another, as he has been among us since childhood and is loyal. He will do well for one.”
“Abbas is loyal, too, and strong,” suggested Tollog.
“Yea, let him be the second,” agreed Ibn Jad. “But it is well that they do not know how the Nasrany came to die. Tell them that you heard a noise in the direction of his hejra and that when you had come to learn the nature of it you found him thus dead.”
“You may trust to my discretion, brother,” Tollog assured.
“And warn them to secrecy,” continued the sheik. “No man but we four must ever know of the death of the Nasrany, nor of his place of burial. In the morning we shall tell the others that he escaped during the night. Leave his cut bonds within the hejra as proof. You understand?”
“By Ullah, fully.”
“Good! Now go. The people sleep.” The sheik rose and Tollog, also. The former entered the apartment of his hareem and the latter moved silently through the darkness of the night in the direction of the hejra where his victim lay.
Through the jungle came Tantor the elephant and from his path fled gentle beasts and fierce. Even Numa the lion slunk growling to one side as the mighty pachyderm passed.
Into the darkness of the hejra crept Tollog, the sheik’s brother; but Tarzan, lying with an ear to the ground, had heard him approaching from the moment that he had left the beyt of Ibn Jad. Tarzan heard other sounds as well and, as he interpreted these others, he interpreted the stealthy approach of Tollog and was convinced when the footsteps turned into the tent where he lay—convinced of the purpose of his visitor. For what purpose but the taking of his life would a Beduin visit Tarzan at this hour of the night?
As Tollog, groping in the dark, entered the tent Tarzan sat erect and again there smote upon the ears of the Beduin the horrid cry that had disturbed the menzil earlier in the evening, but this time it arose in the very hejra in which Tollog stood.
The Beduin halted, aghast. “Ullah!” he cried, stepping back. “What beast is there? Nasrany! Art thou being attacked?”
Others in the camp were awakened, but none ventured forth to investigate. Tarzan smiled and remained silent.
“Nasrany!” repeated Tollog, but there was no reply.
Cautiously, his knife ready in his hand, the Beduin backed from the hejra. He listened but heard no sound from within. Running quickly to his own beyt he made a light in a paper lantern and hastened back to the hejra, and this time he carried his
