They had proceeded for a half or three-quarters
of a mile when, at a turning of the gorge, Tarzan saw before him a
narrow valley cut deep into the living rock of the earth's crust,
with lofty mountain ranges bounding it upon the south. How far it
extended east and west he could not see, but apparently it was no
more than three or four miles across from north to south.
That it was a well-watered valley was indicated by the wealth of
vegetation that carpeted its floor from the rocky cliffs upon the
north to the mountains on the south.
Over the edge of the cliffs from which the ape-man viewed the valley
a trail had been hewn that led downward to the base. Preceded by
the lion Tarzan descended into the valley, which, at this point,
was forested with large trees. Before him the trail wound onward
toward the center of the valley. Raucous-voiced birds of brilliant
plumage screamed among the branches while innumerable monkeys
chattered and scolded above him.
The forest teemed with life, and yet there was borne in upon the
ape-man a sense of unutterable loneliness, a sensation that he
never before had felt in his beloved jungles. There was unreality
in everything about him--in the valley itself, lying hidden
and forgotten in what was supposed to be an arid waste. The birds
and the monkeys, while similar in type to many with which he was
familiar, were identical with none, nor was the vegetation without
its idiosyncrasies.
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