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It was little Buulaoo, the chief's son by one of his younger wives--a vindictive,
degenerate little rascal who hated Tambudza, and was ever seeking opportunities
to spy upon her and report her slightest breach of custom to his father.
"Come, then," said Tarzan quickly, "let us be on our way."
This Buulaoo did not hear, for he was already legging it up the village street to
where his hideous sire guzzled native beer, and watched the evolutions of the
frantic dancers leaping high in the air and cavorting wildly in their hysterical
capers.
So it happened that as Tarzan and Tambudza sneaked warily from the village and
melted into the Stygian darkness of the jungle two lithe runners took their way in
the same direction, though by another trail.
When they had come sufficiently far from the village to make it safe for them to
speak above a whisper, Tarzan asked the old woman if she had seen aught of a
white woman and a little child.
"
-
Yes, bwana," replied Tambudza, "there was a woman with them and a little child-
a little white piccaninny. It died here in our village of the fever and they buried
it!"
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