ambush it was, and into this ran Tarzan of the Apes. They tricked
him neatly. Yes, sad as is the narration of it, they tricked the
wily jungle lord. But then they were fighting on their own ground,
every foot of which they knew as you know your front parlor, and
they were following their own tactics, of which Tarzan knew nothing.

A single black warrior appeared to Tarzan a laggard in the rear of
the retreating enemy and thus retreating he lured Tarzan on. At
last he turned at bay confronting the ape-man with bludgeon and
drawn knife and as Tarzan charged him a score of burly Waz-don
leaped from the surrounding brush. Instantly, but too late, the giant
Tarmangani realized his peril. There flashed before him a vision
of his lost mate and a great and sickening regret surged through
him with the realization that if she still lived she might no longer
hope, for though she might never know of the passing of her lord
the fact of it must inevitably seal her doom.

And consequent to this thought there enveloped him a blind frenzy
of hatred for these creatures who dared thwart his purpose and menace
the welfare of his wife. With a savage growl he threw himself upon
the warrior before him twisting the heavy club from the creature's
hand as if he had been a little child, and with his left fist backed
by the weight and sinew of his giant frame, he crashed a shattering
blow to the center of the Waz-don's face--a blow that crushed the
bones and dropped the fellow in his tracks. Then he swung upon the
others with their fallen comrade's bludgeon striking to right and
left mighty, unmerciful blows that drove down their own weapons
until that wielded by the ape-man was splintered and shattered. On
either hand they fell before his cudgel; so rapid the delivery of
his blows, so catlike his recovery that in the first few moments