Jungle Tales of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 27

who, like all good rulers, had circled
in the safety of the background, called to one to work his way in and
spear the victim. Gradually, through the milling, battling men, the
warrior approached the object of his quest.

He stood with poised spear above his head waiting for the instant that
would expose a vulnerable part of the ape-man's body and still not
endanger one of the blacks. Closer and closer he edged about,
following the movements of the twisting, scuffling combatants. The
growls of the ape-man sent cold chills up the warrior's spine, causing
him to go carefully lest he miss at the first cast and lay himself open
to an attack from those merciless teeth and mighty hands.

At last he found an opening. Higher he raised his spear, tensing his
muscles, rolling beneath his glistening, ebon hide, and then from the
jungle just beyond the palisade came a thunderous crashing. The
spear-hand paused, the black cast a quick glance in the direction of
the disturbance, as did the others of the blacks who were not occupied
with the subjugation of the ape-man.

In the glare of the fires they saw a huge bulk topping the barrier.
They saw the palisade belly and sway inward. They saw it burst as
though built of straws, and an instant later Tantor, the elephant,
thundered down upon them.

To right and left the blacks fled, screaming in terror. Some who
hovered upon the verge of the strife with Tarzan heard and made good
their escape, but a half dozen there were so wrapt in the blood-madness
of battle that they failed to note the approach of the giant tusker.

Upon these Tantor charged, trumpeting furiously. Above them he
stopped, his sensitive trunk weaving among them, and there, at the
bottom, he found Tarzan, bloody, but still battling.

A warrior turned his eyes upward from the melee. Above him towered the
gigantic bulk of the pachyderm, the little eyes flashing with the
reflected light of the fires--wicked, frightful, terrifying. The
warrior screamed, and as he screamed, the sinuous trunk encircled him,
lifted him high above the ground, and hurled him far after the fleeing
crowd.

Another and another Tantor wrenched from the body of the ape-man,
throwing them to right and to left, where they lay either moaning or
very quiet, as death came slowly or at once.

At a distance Mbonga rallied his warriors. His greedy eyes had noted
the great ivory tusks of the bull. The first panic of terror relieved,
he urged his men forward

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