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influence of the horrible place setting down upon him; but he staggered to his
feet, shaking himself like a great lion, for was he not still Tarzan, mighty Tarzan
of the Apes? Yes, and Tarzan the mighty he would be until the last throb of that
savage heart!
As he crossed the floor of the canyon he saw something lying close to the base of
the side wall he was approaching-something that stood out in startling contrast
to all the surroundings and yet seemed so much a part and parcel of the somber
scene as to suggest an actor amid the settings of a well-appointed stage, and, as
though to carry out the allegory, the pitiless rays of flaming Kudu topped the
eastern cliff, picking out the thing lying at the foot of the western wall like a giant
spotlight.
And as Tarzan came nearer he saw the bleached skull and bones of a human
being about which were remnants of clothing and articles of equipment that, as
he examined them, filled the ape-man with curiosity to such an extent that for a
time he forgot his own predicament in contemplation of the remarkable story
suggested by these mute evidences of a tragedy of a time long past.
The bones were in a fair state of preservation and indicated by their intactness
that the flesh had probably been picked from them by vultures as none was
broken; but the pieces of equipment bore out the suggestion of their great age. In
this protected spot where there were no frosts and evidently but little rainfall, the
bones might have lain for ages without disintegrating, for there were here no
other forces to scatter or disturb them.
Near the skeleton lay a helmet of hammered brass and a corroded breastplate of
steel while at one side was a long, straight sword in its scabbard and an ancient
harquebus. The bones were those of a large man--a man of wondrous strength
and vitality Tarzan knew he must have been to have penetrated thus far through
the dangers of Africa with such a ponderous yet at the same time futile
armament.
The ape-man felt a sense of deep admiration for this nameless adventurer of a
bygone day. What a brute of a man he must have been and what a glorious tale of
battle and kaleidoscopic vicissitudes of fortune must once have been locked
within that whitened skull! Tarzan stooped to examine the shreds of clothing that
still lay about the bones. Every particle of leather had disappeared, doubtless
eaten by Ska. No boots remained, if the man had worn boots, but there were
several buckles scattered about suggesting that a great part of his trappings had
been of leather, while just beneath the bones of one hand lay a metal cylinder
about eight inches long and two inches in diameter. As Tarzan picked it up he
saw that it had been heavily lacquered and had withstood the slight ravages of
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