And as Tarzan came nearer he saw the bleached skull and bones of
a human being about which were remnants of clothing and articles
of equipment that, as he examined them, filled the ape-man with
curiosity to such an extent that for a time he forgot his own
predicament in contemplation of the remarkable story suggested by
these mute evidences of a tragedy of a time long past.
The bones were in a fair state of preservation and indicated by
their intactness that the flesh had probably been picked from them
by vultures as none was broken; but the pieces of equipment bore
out the suggestion of their great age. In this protected spot where
there were no frosts and evidently but little rainfall, the bones
might have lain for ages without disintegrating, for there were
here no other forces to scatter or disturb them.
Near the skeleton lay a helmet of hammered brass and a corroded
breastplate of steel while at one side was a long, straight sword
in its scabbard and an ancient harquebus. The bones were those of
a large man--a man of wondrous strength and vitality Tarzan knew
he must have been to have penetrated thus far through the dangers
of Africa with such a ponderous yet at the same time futile armament.
The ape-man felt a sense of deep admiration for this nameless
adventurer of a bygone day. What a brute of a man he must have been
and what a glorious tale of battle and kaleidoscopic vicissitudes
of fortune must once have been locked within that whitened skull!
Tarzan stooped to examine the shreds of clothing that still lay
about the bones.
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