Tarzan of the Apes

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 79

he collected the various arm and leg ornaments
he had taken from the black warriors who had succumbed to his swift and
silent noose, and donned them all after the way he had seen them worn.

About his neck hung the golden chain from which depended the diamond
encrusted locket of his mother, the Lady Alice. At his back was a
quiver of arrows slung from a leathern shoulder belt, another piece of
loot from some vanquished black.

About his waist was a belt of tiny strips of rawhide fashioned by
himself as a support for the home-made scabbard in which hung his
father's hunting knife. The long bow which had been Kulonga's hung
over his left shoulder.

The young Lord Greystoke was indeed a strange and war-like figure, his
mass of black hair falling to his shoulders behind and cut with his
hunting knife to a rude bang upon his forehead, that it might not fall
before his eyes.

His straight and perfect figure, muscled as the best of the ancient
Roman gladiators must have been muscled, and yet with the soft and
sinuous curves of a Greek god, told at a glance the wondrous
combination of enormous strength with suppleness and speed.

A personification, was Tarzan of the Apes, of the primitive man, the
hunter, the warrior.

With the noble poise of his handsome head upon those broad shoulders,
and the fire of life and intelligence in those fine, clear eyes, he
might readily have typified some demigod of a wild and warlike bygone
people of his ancient forest.

But of these things Tarzan did not think. He was worried because he
had not clothing to indicate to all the jungle folks that he was a man
and not an ape, and grave doubt often entered his mind as to whether he
might not yet become an ape.

Was not hair commencing to grow upon his face? All the apes had hair
upon theirs but the black men were entirely hairless, with very few

True, he had seen pictures in his books of men with great masses of
hair upon lip and cheek and chin, but, nevertheless, Tarzan was afraid.
Almost daily he whetted his keen knife and scraped and whittled at his
young beard to eradicate this degrading emblem of apehood.

And so he learned to shave--rudely and painfully, it is true--but,
nevertheless, effectively.

When he felt quite strong again, after his bloody battle with Terkoz,
Tarzan set off one morning towards Mbonga's village. He was moving
carelessly along a winding jungle trail, instead of making his progress
through the trees, when

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