After their first terror had subsided subsequent to the shock
of the earthquake, Basuli and his warriors hastened back into the
passageway in search of Tarzan and two of their own number who were
also missing.

They found the way blocked by jammed and distorted rock. For two
days they labored to tear a way through to their imprisoned friends;
but when, after Herculean efforts, they had unearthed but a few
yards of the choked passage, and discovered the mangled remains of
one of their fellows they were forced to the conclusion that Tarzan
and the second Waziri also lay dead beneath the rock mass farther
in, beyond human aid, and no longer susceptible of it.

Again and again as they labored they called aloud the names
of their master and their comrade; but no answering call rewarded
their listening ears. At last they gave up the search. Tearfully
they cast a last look at the shattered tomb of their master,
shouldered the heavy burden of gold that would at least furnish
comfort, if not happiness, to their bereaved and beloved mistress,
and made their mournful way back across the desolate valley of Opar,
and downward through the forests beyond toward the distant bungalow.

And as they marched what sorry fate was already drawing down upon
that peaceful, happy home!

From the north came Achmet Zek, riding to the summons of his
lieutenant's letter. With him came his horde of renegade Arabs,
outlawed marauders, these, and equally degraded blacks, garnered
from the more debased and ignorant tribes of savage cannibals