Cautiously he raised his wrists until he could examine the thongs that confined them.A grim smile lighted his features.Instantly he was at work upon the bonds with his strong teeth, but ever a wary eye was upon In-tan, the warrior of Kor-ul-lul.The last knot had been loosened and Tarzan's hands were free when In-tan turned to cast an appraising eye upon his ward.He saw that the prisoner's position was changed--he no longer lay upon his back as they had left him, but upon his side and his hands were drawn up against his face.In-tan came closer and bent down.The bonds seemed very loose upon the prisoner's wrists.He extended his hand to examine them with his fingers and instantly the two hands leaped from their bonds--one to seize his own wrist, the other his throat.So unexpected the catlike attack that In-tan had not even time to cry out before steel fingers silenced him.The creature pulled him suddenly forward so that he lost his balance and rolled over upon the prisoner and to the floor beyond to stop with Tarzan upon his breast.In-tan struggled to release himself--struggled to draw his knife; but Tarzan found it before him.The Waz-don's tail leaped to the other's throat, encircling it--he too could choke; but his own knife, in the hands of his antagonist, severed the beloved member close to its root.
The Waz-don's struggles became weaker--a film was obscuring his vision.He knew that he was dying and he was right.A moment later he was dead.Tarzan rose to his feet and placed one foot upon the breast of his dead foe.How the urge seized him to roar forth the victory cry of his kind! But he dared not.He discovered that they had not removed his rope from his shoulders and that they had replaced his knife in its sheath.It had been in his hand when he was felled.Strange creatures! He did not know that they held a superstitious fear of the weapons of a dead enemy, believing that if buried without them he would forever haunt his slayers in search of them and that when he found them he would kill the man who killed him.Against the wall leaned his bow and quiver of arrows.
Tarzan stepped toward the doorway of the cave and looked out.
Night had just fallen.He could hear voices from the nearer caves and there floated to his nostrils the odor of cooking food.He looked down and experienced a sensation of relief.The cave in which he had been held was in the lowest tier--scarce thirty feet from the base of the cliff.He was about to chance an immediate descent when there occurred to him a thought that brought a grin to his savage lips--a thought that was born of the name the Waz-don had given him Tarzan-jad-guru--Tarzan the Terrible--and a recollection of the days when he had delighted in baiting the blacks of the distant jungle of his birth.He turned back into the cave where lay the dead body of In-tan.With his knife he severed the warrior's head and carrying it to the outer edge of the recess tossed it to the ground below, then he dropped swiftly and silently down the ladder of pegs in a way that would have surprised the Kor-ul-lul who had been so sure that he could not climb.
At the bottom he picked up the head of In-tan and disappeared among the shadows of the trees carrying the grisly trophy by its shock of shaggy hair.Horrible? But you are judging a wild beast by the standards of civilization.You may teach a lion tricks, but he is still a lion.Tarzan looked well in a Tuxedo, but he was still a Tarmangani and beneath his pleated shirt beat a wild and savage heart.
