more serious obligations than those of providing sustenance, and
safeguarding his life. Therefore, there was nothing to awaken for
until danger threatened, or the pangs of hunger assailed. It was
the latter which eventually aroused him.

Opening his eyes, he stretched his giant thews, yawned, rose and
gazed about him through the leafy foliage of his retreat. Across
the wasted meadowlands and fields of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke,
Tarzan of the Apes looked, as a stranger, upon the moving figures
of Basuli and his braves as they prepared their morning meal and
made ready to set out upon the expedition which Basuli had planned
after discovering the havoc and disaster which had befallen the
estate of his dead master.

The ape-man eyed the blacks with curiosity. In the back of his
brain loitered a fleeting sense of familiarity with all that he
saw, yet he could not connect any of the various forms of life,
animate and inanimate, which had fallen within the range of his
vision since he had emerged from the darkness of the pits of Opar,
with any particular event of the past.

Hazily he recalled a grim and hideous form, hairy, ferocious. A
vague tenderness dominated his savage sentiments as this phantom
memory struggled for recognition. His mind had reverted to his
childhood days--it was the figure of the giant she-ape, Kala, that
he saw; but only half recognized. He saw, too, other grotesque,
manlike forms. They were of Terkoz, Tublat, Kerchak, and a smaller,
less ferocious figure, that was Neeta, the little playmate of his
boyhood.