For a time silence reigned in the Kor-ul-ja. The tribesmen waited, looking now down upon the dead thing that had been their chief, now at one another, and now at Om-at and the two who stood upon his either side. Presently Om-at spoke. “I am Om-at,” he cried. “Who will say that Om-at is not gund of Kor-ul-ja?”
He waited for a taker of his challenge. One or two of the larger young bucks fidgeted restlessly and eyed him; but there was no reply.
“Then Om-at is gund,” he said with finality. “Now tell me, where are Pan-at-lee, her father, and her brothers?”
An old warrior spoke. “Pan-at-lee should be in her cave. Who should know that better than you who are there now? Her father and her brothers were sent to watch Kor-ul-lul; but neither of these questions arouse any tumult in our breasts. There is one that does: Can Om-at be chief of Kor-ul-ja and yet stand at bay against his own people with a Ho-don and that terrible man at his side—that terrible man who has no tail? Hand the strangers over to your people to be slain as is the way of the Waz-don and then may Om-at be gund.”
Neither Tarzan nor Ta-den spoke then, they but stood watching Om-at and waiting for his decision, the ghost of a smile upon the lips of the ape-man. Ta-den, at least, knew that the old warrior had spoken the truth—the Waz-don entertain no strangers and take no prisoners of an alien race.
Then spoke Om-at. “Always there is change,” he said. “Even the old hills of Pal-ul-don appear never twice alike—the brilliant sun, a passing cloud, the moon, a mist, the changing seasons, the sharp clearness following a storm; these things bring each a new change in our hills. From birth to death, day by day, there is constant change in each of us. Change, then, is one of Jad-ben-Otho’s laws.
“And now I, Om-at, your gund, bring another change. Strangers who are brave men and good friends shall no longer be slain by the Waz-don of Kor-ul-ja!”
There were growls and murmurings and a restless moving among the warriors as each eyed the others to see who would take the initiative against Om-at, the iconoclast.
“Cease your mutterings,” admonished the new gund. “I am your chief. My word is your law. You had no part in making me chief. Some of you helped Es-sat to drive me from the cave of my ancestors; the rest of you permitted it. I owe you nothing. Only these two, whom you would have me kill, were loyal to me. I am gund and if there be any who doubts it let him speak—he cannot die younger.”
Tarzan was pleased. Here was a man after his own heart. He admired the fearlessness of Om-at’s challenge and he was a sufficiently good judge of men to know that he had listened to no idle bluff—Om-at would back up his words to the death, if necessary, and the chances were that he would not be the one to die. Evidently the majority of the Kor-ul-jaians entertained the same conviction.
“I will make you a good gund,” said Om-at, seeing that no one appeared inclined to dispute his rights. “Your wives and daughters will be safe—they were not safe while Es-sat ruled. Go now to your crops and your hunting. I leave to search for Pan-at-lee. Ab-on will be gund while I am away—look to him for guidance and to me for an accounting when I return—and may Jad-ben-Otho smile upon you.”
He turned toward Tarzan and the Ho-don. “And you, my friends,” he said, “are free to go among my people; the cave of my ancestors is yours, do what you will.”
“I,” said Tarzan, “will go with Om-at to search for Pan-at-lee.”
“And I,” said Ta-den.
Om-at smiled. “Good!” he exclaimed. “And when we have found her we shall go together upon Tarzan’s business and Ta-den’s. Where first shall we search?” He turned toward his warriors. “Who knows where she may be?”
None knew other than that Pan-at-lee had gone to her cave with the others the previous evening—there was no clue, no suggestion as to her whereabouts.
“Show me where she sleeps,” said Tarzan; “let me see something that belongs to her—an article of her apparel—then, doubtless, I can help you.”
Two young warriors climbed closer to the ledge upon which Om-at stood. They were In-sad and O-dan. It was the latter who spoke.
“Gund of Kor-ul-ja,” he said, “we would go with you to search for Pan-at-lee.”
It was the first acknowledgment of Om-at’s chieftainship and immediately following it the tenseness that had prevailed seemed to relax—the warriors spoke aloud instead of in whispers, and the women appeared from the mouths of caves as with the passing of a sudden storm. In-sad and O-dan had taken the lead and now all seemed glad to follow. Some came to talk with Om-at and to look more closely at Tarzan; others, heads of caves, gathered their hunters and discussed the business of the day. The women and children prepared to descend to the fields with the youths and the old men, whose duty it was to guard them.
“O-dan and In-sad shall go with us,” announced Om-at, “we shall not need more. Tarzan, come with me and I shall show you where Pan-at-lee sleeps, though why you should wish to know I cannot guess—she is not there. I have looked for myself.”
The two entered the cave where Om-at led the way to the apartment in which Es-sat had surprised Pan-at-lee the previous night.
“All here are hers,” said Om-at, “except the war club lying on the floor—that was Es-sat’s.”
The ape-man moved silently about the apartment, the quivering of his sensitive nostrils scarcely apparent to his companion who only wondered what good purpose could be served
