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With the quickness of a cat Tarzan swung the king ape over one hip and sent him

sprawling to the ground. "I am Tarzan, King of all the Apes!" he shouted. "Shall it

be peace?"

Go-lat, infuriated, leaped to his feet and charged again, shouting his war cry: "I

kill! I kill! I kill!" and again Tarzan met him with a sudden hold that the stupid

bull, being ignorant of, could not possibly avert--a hold and a throw that brought

a scream of delight from the interested audience and suddenly filled the girl with

doubts as to the man's madness--evidently he was quite safe among the apes, for

she saw him swing Go-lat to his back and then catapult him over his shoulder.

The king ape fell upon his head and lay very still.

"I am Tarzan of the Apes!" cried the ape-man. "I come to dance the Dum-Dum

with my brothers," and he made a motion to the drummers, who immediately

took up the cadence of the dance where they had dropped it to watch their king

slay the foolish Tarmangani.

It was then that Go-lat raised his head and slowly crawled to his feet. Tarzan

approached him. "I am Tarzan of the Apes," he cried. "Shall Tarzan dance the

Dum-Dum with his brothers now, or shall he kill first?"

Go-lat raised his bloodshot eyes to the face of the Tarmangani. "Kagoda!" he cried

Tarzan of the Apes will dance the Dum-Dum with his brothers and Go-lat will

dance with him!"

And then the girl in the tree saw the savage man leaping, bending, and stamping

with the savage apes in the ancient rite of the Dum-Dum. His roars and growls

were more beastly than the beasts. His handsome face was distorted with savage

ferocity. He beat upon his great breast and screamed forth his challenge as his

smooth, brown hide brushed the shaggy coats of his fellows. It was weird; it was

wonderful; and in its primitive savagery it was not without beauty--the strange

scene she looked upon, such a scene as no other human being, probably, ever

had witnessed--and yet, withal, it was horrible.

As she gazed, spell-bound, a stealthy movement in the tree behind her caused

her to turn her head, and there, back of her, blazing in the reflected moonlight,

shone two great, yellow-green eyes. Sheeta, the panther, had found her out.

The beast was so close that it might have reached out and touched her with a

great, taloned paw. There was no time to think, no time to weigh chances or to

choose alternatives. Terror-inspired impulse was her guide as, with a loud

scream, she leaped from the tree into the clearing.

Tarzan the Untamed