For
a moment Tarzan examined the ground to the right and to the left,
then he stood erect and looking at Om-at pointed into the gorge.
For a moment the Waz-don gazed down into the green rift at the bottom
of which a tumultuous river tumbled downward along its rocky bed,
then he closed his eyes as to a sudden spasm of pain and turned
away.
"You--mean--she jumped?" he asked.
"To escape the lion," replied Tarzan. "He was right behind her--look,
you can see where his four paws left their impress in the turf as
he checked his charge upon the very verge of the abyss."
"Is there any chance--" commenced Om-at, to be suddenly silenced
by a warning gesture from Tarzan.
"Down!" whispered the ape-man, "many men are coming. They are
running--from down the ridge." He flattened himself upon his belly
in the grass, the others following his example.
For some minutes they waited thus and then the others, too, heard
the sound of running feet and now a hoarse shout followed by many
more.
"It is the war cry of the Kor-ul-lul," whispered Om-at--"the
hunting cry of men who hunt men. Presently shall we see them
and if Jad-ben-Otho is pleased with us they shall not too greatly
outnumber us."
"They are many," said Tarzan, "forty or fifty, I should say; but
how many are the pursued and how many the pursuers we cannot even
guess, except that the latter must greatly outnumber the former,
else these would not run so fast.
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