ore
the ape-man's mental vision. What if one should come and take Gazan
from Teeka. Tarzan uttered a low and ominous growl as though Gazan
were his own. Go-bu-balu glanced here and there apprehensively,
thinking that Tarzan had espied an enemy. Sabor sprang suddenly to her
feet, her yellow-green eyes blazing, her tail lashing as she cocked her
ears, and raising her muzzle, sniffed the air for possible danger. The
two little cubs, which had been playing, scampered quickly to her, and
standing beneath her, peered out from between her forelegs, their big
ears upstanding, their little heads cocked first upon one side and then
upon the other.

With a shake of his black shock, Tarzan turned away and resumed his
hunting in another direction; but all day there rose one after another,
above the threshold of his objective mind, memory portraits of Sabor,
of Momaya, and of Teeka--a lioness, a cannibal, and a she-ape, yet to
the ape-man they were identical through motherhood.

It was noon of the third day when Momaya came within sight of the cave
of Bukawai, the unclean. The old witch-doctor had rigged a framework
of interlaced boughs to close the mouth of the cave from predatory
beasts. This was now set to one side, and the black cavern beyond
yawned mysterious and repellent. Momaya shivered as from a cold wind
of the rainy season. No sign of life appeared about the cave, yet
Momaya experienced that uncanny sensation as of unseen eyes regarding
her malevolently. Again she shuddered. She tried to force her
unwilling feet onward toward the cave, when from its depths issued an
uncanny sound that was neither brute nor human, a weird sound that was
akin to mirthless laughter.

With a stifled scream, Momaya turned and fled into the jungle. For a
hundred yards she ran before she could control her terror, and then she
paused, listening. Was all her labor, were all the terrors and dangers
through which she had passed to go for naught? She tried to steel
herself to return to the cave, but again fright overcame her.

Saddened, disheartened, she turned slowly upon the back trail toward
the village of Mbonga. Her young shoulders now were drooped like those
of an old woman who bears a great burden of many years with their
accumulated pains and sorrows, and she walked with tired feet and a
halting step. The spring of youth was gone from Momaya.

For another hundred yards she dragged her weary way, her brain half
paralyzed fr