the Belgian had recently passed out of the tent by this avenue.

Tarzan was not long in following the way that his prey had fled.
The spoor led always in the shadow and at the rear of the huts
and tents of the village--it was quite evident to Tarzan that the
Belgian had gone alone and secretly upon his mission. Evidently
he feared the inhabitants of the village, or at least his work had
been of such a nature that he dared not risk detection.

At the back of a native hut the spoor led through a small hole
recently cut in the brush wall and into the dark interior beyond.
Fearlessly, Tarzan followed the trail. On hands and knees, he
crawled through the small aperture. Within the hut his nostrils
were assailed by many odors; but clear and distinct among them
was one that half aroused a latent memory of the past--it was the
faint and delicate odor of a woman. With the cognizance of it
there rose in the breast of the ape-man a strange uneasiness--the
result of an irresistible force which he was destined to become
acquainted with anew--the instinct which draws the male to his
mate.

In the same hut was the scent spoor of the Belgian, too, and as
both these assailed the nostrils of the ape-man, mingling one with
the other, a jealous rage leaped and burned within him, though his
memory held before the mirror of recollection no image of the she
to which he had attached his desire.

Like the tent he had investigated, the hut, too, was empty, and
after satisfying himself that his stolen pouch was secreted nowhere
within, he left, as he had entered, by the hole in the rear wall.