So, for the time being at least Lu-don played
safe. Yet Tarzan knew as well as though the man had spoken aloud
his inmost thoughts that it was in the heart of the high priest to
tear the veil from his imposture.
At the entrance to the temple Ko-tan had relinquished the guidance
of the guest to Lu-don and now the latter led Tarzan through those
portions of the temple that he wished him to see. He showed him
the great room where the votive offerings were kept, gifts from
the barbaric chiefs of Pal-ul-don and from their followers. These
things ranged in value from presents of dried fruits to massive
vessels of beaten gold, so that in the great main storeroom and
its connecting chambers and corridors was an accumulation of wealth
that amazed even the eyes of the owner of the secret of the treasure
vaults of Opar.
Moving to and fro throughout the temple were sleek black Waz-don
slaves, fruits of the Ho-don raids upon the villages of their less
civilized neighbors. As they passed the barred entrance to a dim
corridor, Tarzan saw within a great company of pithecanthropi of
all ages and of both sexes, Ho-don as well as Waz-don, the majority
of them squatted upon the stone floor in attitudes of utter dejection
while some paced back and forth, their features stamped with the
despair of utter hopelessness.
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