With this thought in mind the
cat resumed his stalking. Presently he pushed through the thick
bush and his yellow-green eyes rested gloatingly upon the body of
an almost naked Tarmangani lying face down in a narrow game trail.
Numa, sated, rose from the carcass of Bertha Kircher's horse and
seized the partially devoured body by the neck and dragged it into
the bush; then he started east toward the lair where he had left
his mate. Being uncomfortably full he was inclined to be sleepy
and far from belligerent. He moved slowly and majestically with no
effort at silence or concealment. The king walked abroad, unafraid.
With an occasional regal glance to right or left he moved along a
narrow game trail until at a turn he came to a sudden stop at what
lay revealed before him--Sheeta, the panther, creeping stealthily
upon the almost naked body of a Tarmangani lying face down in the
deep dust of the pathway. Numa glared intently at the quiet body
in the dust. Recognition came. It was his Tarmangani. A low growl
of warning rumbled from his throat and Sheeta halted with one paw
upon Tarzan's back and turned suddenly to eye the intruder.
What passed within those savage brains? Who may say? The panther
seemed debating the wisdom of defending his find, for he growled
horribly as though warning Numa away from the prey.
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