Some strange superstition must surround that polished blade, that
no Oparian cared to chance a death thrust from it, yet gladly rushed
to the slaughter of the ape-man's flaying spear.

Once outside the temple court, Werper communicated his discovery
to Tarzan. The ape-man grinned, and let Werper go before him,
brandishing the jeweled and holy weapon. Like leaves before a
gale, the Oparians scattered in all directions and Tarzan and the
Belgian found a clear passage through the corridors and chambers
of the ancient temple.

The Belgian's eyes went wide as they passed through the room of the
seven pillars of solid gold. With ill-concealed avarice he looked
upon the age-old, golden tablets set in the walls of nearly every
room and down the sides of many of the corridors. To the ape-man
all this wealth appeared to mean nothing.

On the two went, chance leading them toward the broad avenue which
lay between the stately piles of the half-ruined edifices and the
inner wall of the city. Great apes jabbered at them and menaced
them; but Tarzan answered them after their own kind, giving back
taunt for taunt, insult for insult, challenge for challenge.

Werper saw a hairy bull swing down from a broken column and advance,
stiff-legged and bristling, toward the naked giant. The yellow
fangs were bared, angry snarls and barkings rumbled threateningly
through the thick and hanging lips.

The Belgian watched his companion. To his horror, he saw the
man stoop until his closed knuckles rested upon the ground as did