drop softly to the ground.

Now he was within the village. Before him stretched a series
of tents and native huts. The business of exploring each of them
would be fraught with danger; but danger was only a natural factor
of each day's life--it never appalled Tarzan. The chances appealed
to him--the chances of life and death, with his prowess and his
faculties pitted against those of a worthy antagonist.

It was not necessary that he enter each habitation--through a
door, a window or an open chink, his nose told him whether or not
his prey lay within. For some time he found one disappointment
following upon the heels of another in quick succession. No spoor
of the Belgian was discernible. But at last he came to a tent where
the smell of the thief was strong. Tarzan listened, his ear close
to the canvas at the rear, but no sound came from within.

At last he cut one of the pin ropes, raised the bottom of the
canvas, and intruded his head within the interior. All was quiet
and dark. Tarzan crawled cautiously within--the scent of the
Belgian was strong; but it was not live scent. Even before he had
examined the interior minutely, Tarzan knew that no one was within
it.

In one corner he found a pile of blankets and clothing scattered
about; but no pouch of pretty pebbles. A careful examination of
the balance of the tent revealed nothing more, at least nothing
to indicate the presence of the jewels; but at the side where the
blankets and clothing lay, the ape-man discovered that the tent
wall had been loosened at the bottom, and presently he sensed that