moved through the tangled recollections of his convalescing brain.
Who was she? What had she been to Tarzan of the Apes? He seemed
to see her about the very spot upon which the pile of gold had
been unearthed by the Abyssinians; but the surroundings were vastly
different from those which now obtained.

There was a building--there were many buildings--and there were
hedges, fences, and flowers. Tarzan puckered his brow in puzzled
study of the wonderful problem. For an instant he seemed to grasp
the whole of a true explanation, and then, just as success was
within his grasp, the picture faded into a jungle scene where a
naked, white youth danced in company with a band of hairy, primordial
ape-things.

Tarzan shook his head and sighed. Why was it that he could not
recollect? At least he was sure that in some way the pile of gold,
the place where it lay, the subtle aroma of the elusive she he had
been pursuing, the memory figure of the white woman, and he himself,
were inextricably connected by the ties of a forgotten past.

If the woman belonged there, what better place to search or await
her than the very spot which his broken recollections seemed to
assign to her? It was worth trying. Tarzan slipped the thong of
the empty pouch over his shoulder and started off through the trees
in the direction of the plain.

At the outskirts of the forest he met the Arabs returning in search
of Achmet Zek. Hiding, he let them pass, and then resumed his way
toward the charred ruins of the home he had been almost upon the
point of recalling to his memory.