“You couldn’t do it,” said Tarzan. “Even if you got through the forest alive you could never cross the desert country without food or water.”
“What shall we do, then?” asked the Englishman.
“We will see if we can find the girl,” replied the ape-man, and then, as though he had forgotten the presence of the Englishman and was arguing to convince himself, “She may be a German and a spy, but she is a woman—a white woman—I can’t leave her here.”
“But how are we going to find her?” asked the Englishman.
“I have followed her this far,” replied Tarzan, “and unless I am greatly mistaken I can follow her still farther.”
“But I cannot accompany you in these clothes without exposing us both to detection and arrest,” argued Smith-Oldwick.
“We will get you other clothes, then,” said Tarzan.
“How?” asked the Englishman.
“Go back to the roof beside the city wall where I entered,” replied the ape-man with a grim smile, “and ask the naked dead man there how I got my disguise.”
Smith-Oldwick looked quickly up at his companion. “I have it,” he exclaimed. “I know where there is a fellow who doesn’t need his clothes anymore, and if we can get back on this roof I think we can find him and get his apparel without much resistance. Only a girl and a young fellow whom we could easily surprise and overcome.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tarzan. “How do you know that the man doesn’t need his clothes any more.”
“I know he doesn’t need them,” replied the Englishman, “because I killed him.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the ape-man, “I see. I guess it might be easier that way than to tackle one of these fellows in the street where there is more chance of our being interrupted.”
“But how are we going to reach the roof again, after all?” queried Smith-Oldwick.
“The same way you came down,” replied Tarzan. “This roof is low and there is a little ledge formed by the capital of each column; I noticed that when you descended. Some of the buildings wouldn’t have been so easy to negotiate.”
Smith-Oldwick looked up toward the eaves of the low roof. “It’s not very high,” he said, “but I am afraid I can’t make it. I’ll try—I’ve been pretty weak since a lion mauled me and the guards beat me up, and too, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
Tarzan thought a moment. “You’ve got to go with me,” he said at last. “I can’t leave you here. The only chance you have of escape is through me and I can’t go with you now until we have found the girl.”
“I want to go with you,” replied Smith-Oldwick. “I’m not much good now but at that two of us may be better than one.”
“All right,” said Tarzan, “come on,” and before the Englishman realized what the other contemplated Tarzan had picked him up and thrown him across his shoulder. “Now, hang on,” whispered the ape-man, and with a short run he clambered apelike up the front of the low arcade. So quickly and easily was it done that the Englishman scarcely had time to realize what was happening before he was deposited safely upon the roof.
“There,” remarked Tarzan. “Now, lead me to the place you speak of.”
Smith-Oldwick had no difficulty in locating the trap in the roof through which he had escaped. Removing the cover the ape-man bent low, listening and sniffing. “Come,” he said after a moment’s investigation and lowered himself to the floor beneath. Smith-Oldwick followed him, and together the two crept through the darkness toward the door in the back wall of the niche in which the Englishman had been hidden by the girl. They found the door ajar and opening it Tarzan saw a streak of light showing through the hangings that separated it from the alcove.
Placing his eye close to the aperture he saw the girl and the young man of which the Englishman had spoken seated on opposite sides of a low table upon which food was spread. Serving them was a giant Negro and it was he whom the ape-man watched most closely. Familiar with the tribal idiosyncrasies of a great number of African tribes over a considerable proportion of the Dark Continent, the Tarmangani at last felt reasonably assured that he knew from what part of Africa this slave had come, and the dialect of his people. There was, however, the chance that the fellow had been captured in childhood and that through long years of non-use his native language had become lost to him, but then there always had been an element of chance connected with nearly every event of Tarzan’s life, so he waited patiently until in the performance of his duties the black man approached a little table which stood near the niche in which Tarzan and the Englishman hid.
As the slave bent over some dish which stood upon the table his ear was not far from the aperture through which Tarzan looked. Apparently from a solid wall, for the Negro had no knowledge of the existence of the niche, came to him in the tongue of his own people, the whispered words: “If you would return to the land of the Wamabo say nothing, but do as I bid you.”
The black rolled terrified eyes toward the hangings at his side. The ape-man could see him tremble and for a moment was fearful that in his terror he would betray them. “Fear not,” he whispered, “we are your friends.”
At last the Negro spoke in a low whisper, scarcely audible even to the keen ears of the ape-man. “What,” he asked, “can poor Otobu do for the god who speaks to him out of the solid wall?”
“This,” replied Tarzan. “Two of us are coming into this room. Help us prevent this man and woman from escaping or raising an outcry that will bring others to their aid.”
“I will help you,” replied the Negro, “to keep them within
