His brain was
still numb from the effects of the blow that had felled him, and
so he did not, for a moment, recognize the lion that stood over
him as the one he had so recently encountered.
Presently, however, recognition dawned upon him and with it
a realization of the astounding fact that Numa did not seem bent
on devouring him--at least not immediately. His position was a
delicate one. The lion stood astraddle Tarzan with his front paws.
The ape-man could not rise, therefore, without pushing the lion away
and whether Numa would tolerate being pushed was an open question.
Too, the beast might consider him already dead and any movement that
indicated the contrary was true would, in all likelihood, arouse
the killing instinct of the man-eater.
But Tarzan was tiring of the situation. He was in no mood to lie
there forever, especially when he contemplated the fact that the
girl spy who had tried to brain him was undoubtedly escaping as
rapidly as possible.
Numa was looking right into his eyes now evidently aware that he was
alive. Presently the lion cocked his head on one side and whined.
Tarzan knew the note, and he knew that it spelled neither rage nor
hunger, and then he risked all on a single throw, encouraged by
that low whine.
"Move, Numa!" he commanded and placing a palm against the tawny
shoulder he pushed the lion aside.
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