rzan laughed and kissed her again. "Not one-tenth so beautiful
as you, dear," he said.

She gave a contented little sigh, and let her head rest against his
shoulder. He knew that he was forgiven.

That night Tarzan built a snug little bower high among the swaying
branches of a giant tree, and there the tired girl slept, while in a
crotch beneath her the ape-man curled, ready, even in sleep, to protect
her.

It took them many days to make the long journey to the coast. Where
the way was easy they walked hand in hand beneath the arching boughs of
the mighty forest, as might in a far-gone past have walked their
primeval forbears. When the underbrush was tangled he took her in his
great arms, and bore her lightly through the trees, and the days were
all too short, for they were very happy. Had it not been for their
anxiety to reach and succor Clayton they would have drawn out the sweet
pleasure of that wonderful journey indefinitely.

On the last day before they reached the coast Tarzan caught the scent
of men ahead of them--the scent of black men. He told the girl, and
cautioned her to maintain silence. "There are few friends in the
jungle," he remarked dryly.

In half an hour they came stealthily upon a small party of black
warriors filing toward the west. As Tarzan saw them he gave a cry of
delight--it was a band of his own Waziri. Busuli was there, and others
who had accompanied him to Opar. At sight of him they danced and cried
out in exuberant joy. For weeks they had been searching for him, they
told him.

The blacks exhibited considerable wonderment at the presence of the
white girl with him, and when they found that she was to be his woman
they vied with one another to do her honor. With the happy Waziri
laughing and dancing about them they came to the rude shelter by the
shore.

There was no sign of life, and no response to their calls. Tarzan
clambered quickly to the interior of the little tree hut, only to
emerge a moment later with an empty tin. Throwing it down to Busuli,
he told him to fetch water, and then he beckoned Jane Porter to come up.

Together they leaned over the emaciated thing that once had been an
English nobleman. Tears came to the girl's eyes as she saw the poor,
sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, and the lines of suffering upon the once
young and handsome face.

"He still lives," said Tarzan. "We will do all that can be done for
him, but I fear that we are too late."