Wappi, the antelope, or Horta, the boar, chanced in his way when
he was hungry, he ate, pausing but long enough to make the kill
and cut himself a steak.

Then at last the long journey drew to its close and he was passing
through the last stretch of heavy forest that bounded his estate
upon the east, and then this was traversed and he stood upon the
plain's edge looking out across his broad lands towards his home.

At the first glance his eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed. Even
at that distance he could see that something was amiss. A thin
spiral of smoke arose at the right of the bungalow where the barns
had stood, but there were no barns there now, and from the bungalow
chimney from which smoke should have arisen, there arose nothing.

Once again Tarzan of the Apes was speeding onward, this time even
more swiftly than before, for he was goaded now by a nameless fear,
more product of intuition than of reason. Even as the beasts,
Tarzan of the Apes seemed to possess a sixth sense. Long before he
reached the bungalow, he had almost pictured the scene that finally
broke upon his view.

Silent and deserted was the vine-covered cottage. Smoldering embers
marked the site of his great barns. Gone were the thatched huts of
his sturdy retainers, empty the fields, the pastures, and corrals.
Here and there vultures rose and circled above the carcasses of
men and beasts.

It was with a feeling as nearly akin to terror as he ever had
experienced that the ape-man finally forced himself to enter his