When at last he stood beneath the arcade he was congratulating
himself upon the success that had attended his efforts up to this
point when, at a slight sound behind him, he turned to see a tall
figure in the yellow tunic of a warrior confronting him.
Out of the Niche
Numa, the lion, growled futilely in baffled rage as he slipped
back to the ground at the foot of the wall after his unsuccessful
attempt to drag down the fleeing ape-man. He poised to make a
second effort to follow his escaping quarry when his nose picked
up a hitherto unnoticed quality in the scent spoor of his intended
prey. Sniffing at the ground that Tarzan's feet had barely touched,
Numa's growl changed to a low whine, for he had recognized the
scent spoor of the man-thing that had rescued him from the pit of
the Wamabos.
What thoughts passed through that massive head? Who may say? But
now there was no indication of baffled rage as the great lion turned
and moved majestically eastward along the wall. At the eastern end
of the city he turned toward the south, continuing his way to the
south side of the wall along which were the pens and corrals where
the herbivorous flocks were fattened for the herds of domesticated
lions within the city. The great black lions of the forest fed
with almost equal impartiality upon the flesh of the grass-eaters
and man.
Pages:
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400