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Chapter VI - Vengeance and Mercy

It was an hour later that Sheeta, the panther, hunting, chanced to glance upward

into the blue sky where his attention was attracted by Ska, the vulture, circling

slowly above the bush a mile away and downwind. For a long minute the yellow

eyes stared intently at the gruesome bird. They saw Ska dive and rise again to

continue his ominous circling and in these movements their woodcraft read that

which, while obvious to Sheeta, would doubtless have meant nothing to you or

me.

The hunting cat guessed that on the ground beneath Ska was some living thing of

flesh--either a beast feeding upon its kill or a dying animal that Ska did not yet

dare attack. In either event it might prove meat for Sheeta, and so the wary feline

stalked by a circuitous route, upon soft, padded feet that gave forth no sound,

until the circling aasvogel and his intended prey were upwind. Then, sniffing each

vagrant zephyr, Sheeta, the panther, crept cautiously forward, nor had he

advanced any considerable distance before his keen nostrils were rewarded with

the scent of man--a Tarmangani.

Sheeta paused. He was not a hunter of men. He was young and in his prime; but

always before he had avoided this hated presence. Of late he had become more

accustomed to it with the passing of many soldiers through his ancient hunting

ground, and as the soldiers had frightened away a great part of the game Sheeta

had been wont to feed upon, the days had been lean, and Sheeta was hungry.

The circling Ska suggested that this Tarmangani might be helpless and upon the

point of dying, else Ska would not have been interested in him, and so easy prey

for Sheeta. With this thought in mind the cat resumed his stalking. Presently he

pushed through the thick bush and his yellow-green eyes rested gloatingly upon

the body of an almost naked Tarmangani lying face down in a narrow game trail.

Numa, sated, rose from the carcass of Bertha Kircher's horse and seized the

partially devoured body by the neck and dragged it into the bush; then he started

east toward the lair where he had left his mate. Being uncomfortably full he was

inclined to be sleepy and far from belligerent. He moved slowly and majestically

with no effort at silence or concealment. The king walked abroad, unafraid.

With an occasional regal glance to right or left he moved along a narrow game

trail until at a turn he came to a sudden stop at what lay revealed before him--

Sheeta, the panther, creeping stealthily upon the almost naked body of a

Tarmangani lying face down in the deep dust of the pathway. Numa glared

intently at the quiet body in the dust. Recognition came. It was his Tarmangani. A

Tarzan the Untamed