It was dark when Tarzan reached the little hill town of Wilhelmstal.
He loitered on the outskirts, getting his bearings and trying to
determine how an almost naked white man might explore the village
without arousing suspicion. There were many soldiers about and
the town was under guard, for he could see a lone sentinel walking
his post scarce a hundred yards from him. To elude this one would
not be difficult; but to enter the village and search it would be
practically impossible, garbed, or un-garbed, as he was.
Creeping forward, taking advantage of every cover, lying flat and
motionless when the sentry's face was toward him, the ape-man at
last reached the sheltering shadows of an outhouse just inside the
lines. From there he moved stealthily from building to building
until at last he was discovered by a large dog in the rear of one of
the bungalows. The brute came slowly toward him, growling. Tarzan
stood motionless beside a tree. He could see a light in the bungalow
and uniformed men moving about and he hoped that the dog would not
bark. He did not; but he growled more savagely and, just at the
moment that the rear door of the bungalow opened and a man stepped
out, the animal charged.
He was a large dog, as large as Dango, the hyena, and he charged
with all the vicious impetuosity of Numa, the lion.
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