The grim and persistent harbinger of evil aroused the man
to renewed determination. He arose and approached the edge of the
canyon, and then, wheeling, with his face turned upward toward the
circling bird of prey, he bellowed forth the challenge of the bull
ape.
"I am Tarzan," he shouted, "Lord of the Jungle. Tarzan of the Apes
is not for Ska, eater of carrion. Go back to the lair of Dango
and feed off the leavings of the hyenas, for Tarzan will leave no
bones for Ska to pick in this empty wilderness of death."
But before he reached the bottom of the canyon he again was forced
to the realization that his great strength was waning, and when he
dropped exhausted at the foot of the cliff and saw before him the
opposite wall that must be scaled, he bared his fighting fangs and
growled. For an hour he lay resting in the cool shade at the foot
of the cliff. All about him reigned utter silence--the silence of
the tomb. No fluttering birds, no humming insects, no scurrying
reptiles relieved the deathlike stillness. This indeed was the
valley of death. He felt the depressing influence of the horrible
place setting down upon him; but he staggered to his feet, shaking
himself like a great lion, for was he not still Tarzan, mighty
Tarzan of the Apes? Yes, and Tarzan the mighty he would be until
the last throb of that savage heart!
As he crossed the floor of the canyon he saw something lying close
to the base of the side wall he was approaching-something that
stood out in startling contrast to all the surroundings and yet
seemed so much a part and parcel of the somber scene as to suggest
an actor amid the settings of a well-appointed stage, and, as though
to carry out the allegory, the pitiless rays of flaming Kudu topped
the eastern cliff, picking out the thing lying at the foot of the
western wall like a giant spotlight.
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