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swarthy murderers leaped into the living…room。
At the far end stood Jane Clayton surrounded by the remnant
of her devoted guardians。 The floor was covered by the
bodies of those who already had given up their lives in
her defense。 In the forefront of her protectors stood
the giant Mugambi。 The Arabs raised their rifles to
pour in the last volley that would effectually end all
resistance； but Achmet Zek roared out a warning order
that stayed their trigger fingers。
〃Fire not upon the woman！〃 he cried。 〃Who harms her；
dies。 Take the woman alive！〃
The Arabs rushed across the room； the Waziri met them
with their heavy spears。 Swords flashed； long…barreled
pistols roared out their sullen death dooms。 Mugambi
launched his spear at the nearest of the enemy with a
force that drove the heavy shaft completely through the
Arab's body； then he seized a pistol from another； and
grasping it by the barrel brained all who forced their
way too near his mistress。
Emulating his example the few warriors who remained to
him fought like demons； but one by one they fell； until
only Mugambi remained to defend the life and honor of
the ape…man's mate。
From across the room Achmet Zek watched the unequal
struggle and urged on his minions。 In his hands was a
jeweled musket。 Slowly he raised it to his shoulder；
waiting until another move should place Mugambi at his
mercy without endangering the lives of the woman or any
of his own followers。
At last the moment came； and Achmet Zek pulled the
trigger。 Without a sound the brave Mugambi sank to the
floor at the feet of Jane Clayton。
An instant later she was surrounded and disarmed。
Without a word they dragged her from the bungalow。
A giant Negro lifted her to the pommel of his saddle；
and while the raiders searched the bungalow and outhouses
for plunder he rode with her beyond the gates and
waited the coming of his master。
Jane Clayton saw the raiders lead the horses from the
corral； and drive the herds in from the fields。
She saw her home plundered of all that represented
intrinsic worth in the eyes of the Arabs； and then she saw
the torch applied； and the flames lick up what remained。
And at last； when the raiders assembled after glutting
their fury and their avarice； and rode away with her
toward the north； she saw the smoke and the flames
rising far into the heavens until the winding of the trail
into the thick forests hid the sad view from her eyes。
As the flames ate their way into the living…room；
reaching out forked tongues to lick up the bodies of
the dead； one of that gruesome company whose bloody
welterings had long since been stilled； moved again。
It was a huge black who rolled over upon his side and
opened blood…shot； suffering eyes。 Mugambi； whom the
Arabs had left for dead； still lived。 The hot flames
were almost upon him as he raised himself painfully
upon his hands and knees and crawled slowly toward the
doorway。
Again and again he sank weakly to the floor； but each
time he rose again and continued his pitiful way toward
safety。 After what seemed to him an interminable time；
during which the flames had become a veritable fiery
furnace at the far side of the room； the great black
managed to reach the veranda； roll down the steps；
and crawl off into the cool safety of some nearby
shrubbery。
All night he lay there； alternately unconscious and
painfully sentient； and in the latter state watching
with savage hatred the lurid flames which still rose
from burning crib and hay cock。 A prowling lion roared
close at hand； but the giant black was unafraid。 There
was place for but a single thought in his savage mind
revenge！ revenge！ revenge！
7
The Jewel…Room of Opar
For some time Tarzan lay where he had fallen upon the
floor of the treasure chamber beneath the ruined walls
of Opar。 He lay as one dead； but he was not dead。
At length he stirred。 His eyes opened upon the utter
darkness of the room。 He raised his hand to his head
and brought it away sticky with clotted blood。 He
sniffed at his fingers； as a wild beast might sniff at
the life…blood upon a wounded paw。
Slowly he rose to a sitting posturelistening。
No sound reached to the buried depths of his sepulcher。
He staggered to his feet； and groped his way about
among the tiers of ingots。 What was he？ Where was he？
His head ached； but otherwise he felt no ill effects
from the blow that had felled him。 The accident he did not
recall； nor did he recall aught of what had led up to it。
He let his hands grope unfamiliarly over his limbs；
his torso； and his head。 He felt of the quiver at his
back； the knife in his loin cloth。 Something struggled
for recognition within his brain。 Ah！ he had it。
There was something missing。 He crawled about upon
the floor； feeling with his hands for the thing that
instinct warned him was gone。 At last he found itthe
heavy war spear that in past years had formed so
important a feature of his daily life； almost of his
very existence； so inseparably had it been connected
with his every action since the long…gone day that he
had wrested his first spear from the body of a black
victim of his savage training。
Tarzan was sure that there was another and more lovely
world than that which was confined to the darkness of
the four stone walls surrounding him。 He continued his
search and at last found the doorway leading inward
beneath the city and the temple。 This he followed；
most incautiously。 He came to the stone steps leading
upward to the higher level。 He ascended them and
continued onward toward the well。
Nothing spurred his hurt memory to a recollection of
past familiarity with his surroundings。 He blundered
on through the darkness as though he were traversing an
open plain under the brilliance of a noonday sun； and
suddenly there happened that which had to happen under
the circumstances of his rash advance。
He reached the brink of the well； stepped outward into
space； lunged forward； and shot downward into the inky
depths below。 Still clutching his spear； he struck the
water； and sank beneath its surface； plumbing the
depths。
The fall had not injured him； and when he rose to the
surface； he shook the water from his eyes； and found
that he could see。 Daylight was filtering into the
well from the orifice far above his head。 It illumined
the inner walls faintly。 Tarzan gazed about him。
On the level with the surface of the water he saw a
large opening in the dark and slimy wall。 He swam to it；
and drew himself out upon the wet floor of a tunnel。
Along this he passed； but now he went warily； for
Tarzan of the Apes was learning。 The unexpected pit
had taught him care in the traversing of dark
passagewayshe needed no second lesson。
For a long distance the passage went straight as an
arrow。 The floor was sl