The wicked little eyes looked up at him and the horny beak opened to disclose a full set of powerful teeth.
“Herbivorous!” murmured the ape-man. “Your ancestors may have been, but not you,” and then to Pan-at-lee: “Let us go now. At the cave we will have deer meat and then—back to Kor-ul-ja and Om-at.”
The girl shuddered. “Go?” she repeated. “We will never go from here.”
“Why not?” asked Tarzan.
For answer she but pointed to the gryf.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed the man. “It cannot climb. We can reach the cliff through the trees and be back in the cave before it knows what has become of us.”
“You do not know the gryf,” replied Pan-at-lee gloomily.
“Wherever we go it will follow and always it will be ready at the foot of each tree when we would descend. It will never give us up.”
“We can live in the trees for a long time if necessary,” replied Tarzan, “and sometime the thing will leave.”
The girl shook her head. “Never,” she said, “and then there are the Tor-o-don. They will come and kill us and after eating a little will throw the balance to the gryf—the gryf and Tor-o-don are friends, because the Tor-o-don shares his food with the gryf.”
“You may be right,” said Tarzan; “but even so I don’t intend waiting here for someone to come along and eat part of me and then feed the balance to that beast below. If I don’t get out of this place whole it won’t be my fault. Come along now and we’ll make a try at it,” and so saying he moved off through the tree tops with Pan-at-lee close behind. Below them, on the ground, moved the horned dinosaur and when they reached the edge of the forest where there lay fifty yards of open ground to cross to the foot of the cliff he was there with them, at the bottom of the tree, waiting.
Tarzan looked ruefully down and scratched his head.
VII
Jungle Craft
Presently he looked up and at Pan-at-lee. “Can you cross the gorge through the trees very rapidly?” he questioned.
“Alone?” she asked.
“No,” replied Tarzan.
“I can follow wherever you can lead,” she said then.
“Across and back again?”
“Yes.”
“Then come, and do exactly as I bid.” He started back again through the trees, swiftly, swinging monkey-like from limb to limb, following a zigzag course that he tried to select with an eye for the difficulties of the trail beneath. Where the underbrush was heaviest, where fallen trees blocked the way, he led the footsteps of the creature below them; but all to no avail. When they reached the opposite side of the gorge the gryf was with them.
“Back again,” said Tarzan, and, turning, the two retraced their high-flung way through the upper terraces of the ancient forest of Kor-ul-gryf. But the result was the same—no, not quite; it was worse, for another gryf had joined the first and now two waited beneath the tree in which they stopped.
The cliff looming high above them with its innumerable cave mouths seemed to beckon and to taunt them. It was so near, yet eternity yawned between. The body of the Tor-o-don lay at the cliff’s foot where it had fallen. It was in plain view of the two in the tree. One of the gryfs walked over and sniffed about it, but did not offer to devour it. Tarzan had examined it casually as he had passed earlier in the morning. He guessed that it represented either a very high order of ape or a very low order of man—something akin to the Java man, perhaps; a truer example of the pithecanthropi than either the Ho-don or the Waz-don; possibly the precursor of them both. As his eyes wandered idly over the scene below his active brain was working out the details of the plan that he had made to permit Pan-at-lee’s escape from the gorge. His thoughts were interrupted by a strange cry from above them in the gorge.
“Whee-oo! Whee-oo!” it sounded, coming closer.
The gryfs below raised their heads and looked in the direction of the interruption. One of them made a low, rumbling sound in its throat. It was not a bellow and it did not indicate anger. Immediately the “Whee-oo!” responded. The gryfs repeated the rumbling and at intervals the “Whee-oo!” was repeated, coming ever closer.
Tarzan looked at Pan-at-lee. “What is it?” he asked.
“I do not know,” she replied. “Perhaps a strange bird, or another horrid beast that dwells in this frightful place.”
“Ah,” exclaimed Tarzan; “there it is. Look!”
Pan-at-lee voiced a cry of despair. “A Tor-o-don!”
The creature, walking erect and carrying a stick in one hand, advanced at a slow, lumbering gait. It walked directly toward the gryfs who moved aside, as though afraid. Tarzan watched intently. The Tor-o-don was now quite close to one of the triceratops. It swung its head and snapped at him viciously. Instantly the Tor-o-don sprang in and commenced to belabor the huge beast across the face with his stick. To the ape-man’s amazement the gryf, that might have annihilated the comparatively puny Tor-o-don instantly in any of a dozen ways, cringed like a whipped cur.
“Whee-oo! Whee-oo!” shouted the Tor-o-don and the gryf came slowly toward him. A whack on the median horn brought it to a stop. Then the Tor-o-don walked around behind it, clambered up its tail and seated himself astraddle of the huge back. “
