It was at this brief halt that Smith-Oldwick was brought to her side by the men who had been supporting him. He had been rather badly mauled by one of the lions; but was now able to walk alone, though he was extremely weak from shock and loss of blood.
“Pretty mess, what?” he remarked with a wry smile, indicating his bloody and disheveled state.
“It is terrible,” said the girl. “I hope you are not suffering.”
“Not as much as I should have expected,” he replied, “but I feel as weak as a fool. What sort of creatures are these beggars, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, “there is something terribly uncanny about their appearance.”
The man regarded one of their captors closely for a moment and then, turning to the girl asked, “Did you ever visit a madhouse?”
She looked up at him in quick understanding and with a horrified expression in her eyes. “That’s it!” she cried.
“They have all the earmarks,” he said. “Whites of the eyes showing all around the irises, hair growing stiffly erect from the scalp and low down upon the forehead—even their mannerisms and their carriage are those of maniacs.”
The girl shuddered.
“Another thing about them,” continued the Englishman, “that doesn’t appear normal is that they are afraid of parrots and utterly fearless of lions.”
“Yes,” said the girl; “and did you notice that the birds seem utterly fearless of them—really seem to hold them in contempt? Have you any idea what language they speak?”
“No,” said the man, “I have been trying to figure that out. It’s not like any of the few native dialects of which I have any knowledge.”
“It doesn’t sound at all like the native language,” said the girl, “but there is something familiar about it. You know, every now and then I feel that I am just on the verge of understanding what they are saying, or at least that somewhere I have heard their tongue before, but final recognition always eludes me.”
“I doubt if you ever heard their language spoken,” said the man. “These people must have lived in this out-of-the-way valley for ages and even if they had retained the original language of their ancestors without change, which is doubtful, it must be some tongue that is no longer spoken in the outer world.”
At one point where a stream of water crossed the trail the party halted while the lions and the men drank. They motioned to their captives to drink too, and as Bertha Kircher and Smith-Oldwick, lying prone upon the ground drank from the clear, cool water of the rivulet, they were suddenly startled by the thunderous roar of a lion a short distance ahead of them. Instantly the lions with them set up a hideous response, moving restlessly to and fro with their eyes always either turned in the direction from which the roar had come or toward their masters, against whom the tawny beasts slunk. The men loosened the sabers in their scabbards, the weapons that had aroused Smith-Oldwick’s curiosity as they had Tarzan’s, and grasped their spears more firmly.
Evidently there were lions and lions, and while they evinced no fear of the beasts which accompanied them, it was quite evident that the voice of the newcomer had an entirely different effect upon them, although the men seemed less terrified than the lions. Neither, however, showed any indication of an inclination to flee; on the contrary the entire party advanced along the trail in the direction of the menacing roars, and presently there appeared in the center of the path a black lion of gigantic proportions. To Smith-Oldwick and the girl he appeared to be the same lion that they had encountered at the plane and from which Tarzan had rescued them. But it was not Numa of the pit, although he resembled him closely.
The black beast stood directly in the center of the trail lashing his tail and growling menacingly at the advancing party. The men urged on their own beasts, who growled and whined but hesitated to charge. Evidently becoming impatient, and in full consciousness of his might the intruder raised his tail stiffly erect and shot forward. Several of the defending lions made a halfhearted attempt to obstruct his passage, but they might as well have placed themselves in the path of an express train, as hurling them aside the great beast leaped straight for one of the men. A dozen spears were launched at him and a dozen sabers leaped from their scabbards; gleaming, razor-edged weapons they were, but for the instant rendered futile by the terrific speed of the charging beast.
Two of the spears entering his body but served to further enrage him as, with demoniacal roars, he sprang upon the hapless man he had singled out for his prey. Scarcely pausing in his charge he seized the fellow by the shoulder and, turning quickly at right angles, leaped into the concealing foliage that flanked the trail, and was gone, bearing his victim with him.
So quickly had the whole occurrence transpired that the formation of the little party was scarcely altered. There had been no opportunity for flight, even if it had been contemplated; and now that the lion was gone with his prey the men made no move to pursue him. They paused only long enough to recall the two or three of their lions that had scattered and then resumed the march along the trail.
“Might be an everyday occurrence from all the effect it has on them,” remarked Smith-Oldwick to the girl.
“Yes,” she said. “They seem to be neither surprised nor disconcerted, and evidently they are quite sure that the lion, having got what he came for, will not molest them further.”
“I had thought,”
