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The lion was roaring in rage close behind him as he swung the deer across his
shoulder, and, grasping a foreleg between his strong teeth, leaped for the nearest
of the lower branches that swung above his head.
With both hands he grasped the limb, and, at the instant that Numa sprang,
drew himself and his prey out of reach of the animal's cruel talons.
There was a thud below him as the baffled cat fell back to earth, and then Tarzan
of the Apes, drawing his dinner farther up to the safety of a higher limb, looked
down with grinning face into the gleaming yellow eyes of the other wild beast that
glared up at him from beneath, and with taunting insults flaunted the tender
carcass of his kill in the face of him whom he had cheated of it.
With his crude stone knife he cut a juicy steak from the hindquarters, and while
the great lion paced, growling, back and forth below him, Lord Greystoke filled his
savage belly, nor ever in the choicest of his exclusive London clubs had a meal
tasted more palatable.
The warm blood of his kill smeared his hands and face and filled his nostrils with
the scent that the savage carnivora love best.
And when he had finished he left the balance of the carcass in a high fork of the
tree where he had dined, and with Numa trailing below him, still keen for
revenge, he made his way back to his tree-top shelter, where he slept until the
sun was high the following morning.
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